Youth, Caesar, and the Neverending Needles
by ahemyywe150
Summary: Roommates at the age of 17. More like jail mates. And you don't fall in love in jail. Well, you do if your father's a suddenly hospitable cop who takes in a dangerously beautiful deliquent as a favor to said deliquent's father. All Human. Summary inside.
1. Soap Carvers and Goody Two Shoes

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**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just love 'em. And use them for fanfiction-y purposes.**

**A/N: New story? Why, yes it is! **

**Summary****: Bella doesn't actually want a roommate at the age of 17. Especially not a elusive, mysterious, teenage delinquent (allegedly). Yeah, he's pretty, and yeah, okay, he's got nice green eyes, but for some reason, whenever Bella sees him, her mind just goes haywire. She's just not used to being attracted to danger. It's always been the other way around. **

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Prologue

I sighed and emptied my pockets. Wads of paper, candy wrappers, a rusty ring I found on the street, a piece of the newspaper, and crumbs came out. I raised my hands up and turned them to show I wasn't hiding anything in my fingers.

She looked tired today. As if she just wanted to give up and let me go fuck up my life by myself. We'd only known each other for two months, and already she was acting like all the other women in my life: fed up. That's what I get for spending time with one for too long, I guess.

She was about to nod and send me out of her room again, but I reached into my back pocket. She froze, her soft brown eyes looking into mine.

I pulled out the tiny, palm-sized, pink, ratty stuffed bear. I placed it in her hands instead of tossing it on the floor with all my other junk. She looked up at me again. I reached into my back pocket again and pulled out a needle, placing it gently next to the stuffed bear.

My eyes felt tenser and drier. I felt like tearing something up, but I took a steady breath in and ripped my eyes away from the bear.

"Edward-" she whispered.

But I had already gathered my crap off the floor and bolted out the door, wiping away the invisible tears I knew were about to fall.

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I didn't bring much with me to Forks.

I usually think of myself as a sentimental sort of guy, but when I was packing my stuff in my rather small, black, beaten-up, leather suitcase, I realized how little I actually needed. Funny how, as part of my punishment, my bank card and wallet were being taken away. As well as my dignity. I wasn't sure, actually, which one mattered to me more at this point, but I didn't feel the least bit pathetic as I packed my scarce items.

I packed clothes. Barely any. But enough to keep me from streaking down the conservative and innocent roads of Forks.

I packed a rubber band ball I've been adding onto since I was 6, a Bible just for kicks, a sharpie, a notebook, and a pack of cigarettes. One pack, because the last thing I needed was to get addicted during exile.

I packed a pancake-sized, white, rickety, old fan that had a handle on the top. Elizabeth used to carry this around with her on those hot Chicago summer days, and I thought it was ironic bringing it to Forks, so I packed it.

I packed a Mickey-Mouse watch I got my first time at Disney Land.

I packed a Dodgers baseball cap. A toothbrush. Toothpaste. A package of saltines. And 25 cents.

I sighed and zipped up the not-so-filled suitcase. It looked frail on my mattress, almost like a grieving monk or a hippie on a hunger strike. Forlorn and desperate.

I took the posters off my wall, scribbled notes I wrote to myself or to other people during class, and drawings Elizabeth drew when she was in the hospital. I took the picture frame off my bedside table, even though it had nothing in it yet. I put it all in a zipper in my bag and gazed at my barren looking room.

So these were the conditions: I was to pass my junior year at Forks High with flying colors and I was to not get into any sort of trouble of any kind.

If, if and only if, I met these conditions would I be allowed to return home to California with Carlisle and Esme, my adopted parents of ten years who came up with this cruel punishment that had me simultaneously tipping my hat off to them and flicking them off.

I sighed and shut my window, abruptly silencing the noises of the happy beach goers on the sidewalk.

I yanked my drawer open and shoved my iPod, phone, and pencil into my pocket. I snatched my coat (a coat Esme specifically bought me for the weather of Forks) off the back of my desk chair and swung it over my shoulder, taking my tiny suitcase off my bed.

I didn't glance back out the window because I knew there would be a part of me tempted to jump and run.

I slammed the door shut as dismal funeral music played in my head. Carlisle and Esme were standing at the bottom of the stairs. Carlisle's face looked blank, but his eyes held a bit of concern and sadness in them. Esme looked like she was going to wring her hands off and tears were already welling in her eyes. They loved me. I know they did. But they were almost as stubborn as I was, and I didn't even biologically inherit their genes.

They didn't want to do this. And the more they knew they didn't want to do this, the more they convinced themselves that they _had_ to do this.

"Is that all you're bringing?" Esme asked, swiping at the moisture around her eyes. I almost laughed. Of course, in the lush and expensive-looking Cullen household, that would be the question asked. Esme used superficial distractions to keep her from losing her cool. Carlisle looked at the floor.

"This is it," I sighed, raising my light weight suitcase with one hand. I walked down the stairs as they watched me in silence, about a million thoughts shooting across their faces. I stood before them, suitcase in one hand, my dignity, flopping around and flimsy, in the other.

Carlisle cleared his throat and looked at Esme, who gave him a desperate look in return. She looked up at me and reached into her pocket. She opened her palm. Inside was a cross on a chain. I almost laughed again.

"It was um, well, I got it at my first communion," she said weakly, "I don't wear it…but hey, maybe you'll go to church in Forks."

She gave me a watery smile and I returned it as best I could. We were _supposed_ to be a Catholic family, but I can't remember the last time we went to church. And I know her gesture was supposed to mean, 'I'm always with you', but I saw it as, 'God help you'.

Either way, I took the necklace, clasped it around my neck and tucked it under my shirt. It wasn't too feminine looking, made out of simple gold. The cross was pretty small, and I took it as a nice gesture on Esme's part.

But I was still going to Forks. And no shiny cross could let me forget that fact.

"Thanks," I mumbled. She gave a weak smile. Carlisle cleared his throat again, signaling it was time for me to depart into hell.

Esme jumped, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I sighed, patting her back in reassurance.

"Be good, okay?" she whispered into my ear, "You can come home quicker."

"I'll miss you, Mom," I offered. She nodded, swiping away real tears this time as Carlisle led me out to the car. I turned my head, seeing her standing at the door. I wished I wasn't so angry. Then I could actually give her a goodbye. But I was angry. And I'm the type to hold grudges.

I sat in the car with Carlisle. I know Esme was waving because Carlisle waved back at her, even if I didn't. I kept my eyes on the windshield. We pulled out of the driveway and I watched my road, my palm trees, my house, my home, and everything else slowly peel by. After we were away from all Esme's dramatics and a few minutes down the road, Carlisle pulled something out of his pocket.

Oh goody. Another farewell gift.

It was a folded up piece of paper.

"And this is?" I prompted, taking it from his hands as he kept his eyes on the road.

"Rules," he said as I cringed at the word. I read the words, written by Carlisle in his all business, no shit handwriting.

_Rules_

_(Remember, Edward, the better you follow these, the quicker you get to come home)_

_1. No stealing_

_2. No getting into fights_

_3. No setting fires_

_4. No alcohol, no drugs_

_5. No taking advantage of _anyone

_6. No taking advantage (ESPECIALLY) of the hospitable people who've graciously agreed to take you in_

_7. No getting detention for any reason_

_8. No smart-ass attitude (be a complete gentleman, please?)_

_9. No setting fires_

_10. No running away_

I had to smile at these. It was like the Ten Commandments. Figures my parents would instill more Catholicism on me once I _leave_ the house. It was also humorous because some of these things I hadn't even done. Carlisle was just making sure everything was covered, I guess.

"I'm serious, Edward," Carlisle sighed, probably at my smirking.

"I know," I said, still grinning, "That's why it's funny."

"Edward-"

"How will you make sure that I abide all of these rules?"

"Charlie Swan. He's chief of police in Forks, and a long time friend. You'll be living at his house and-"

"My host is a _police officer_?"

"Stop interrupting. Yes, he's the Chief. He's agreed to keep an eye on you and make sure you abide the rules."

I blew out a breath and didn't answer, looking out the window as more pieces of California peeled by. Carlisle kept talking but I was fuming. A _police officer_. I gritted my teeth and set my jaw. Over the top? Yes. Carlisle was nothing if not thorough.

"-and his daughter, he says, is willing to-"

"Daughter?" I interrupted, catching the last part of his sentence. Carlisle sent me a narrowed-eyed look.

"She's seventeen," Carlisle continued, "A good head on her shoulders too, from what I've heard, and Charlie says that she'll help keep an eye on you."

I pondered this, not quite sure what to think.

"This is punishment, Edward, not vacation. I assume you understand that what you did is not to be considered okay under any circumstances."

He always skirts around the actual 'crime'.

"And you know you could have been sent to juvy if you were caught, so consider this as us taking it easy on you. Going to juvy would taint your future forever, and we know that after you get past this, you _do_ have a good future in front of you."

I didn't answer again. I've heard this lecture more times than I could count.

"You do know that, don't you Edward?"

I kept my streak of silence, crossing my arms and propping my sneakers up on the dashboard. I couldn't believe this. I was going to have a police officer and a _girl_, a girl my age, all up in my business for the remainder of junior year. Great.

But, really, come on.

_A girl?_

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Bella

_A boy?_

"Dad," I began to protest as soon as the words left his mouth, "What kind of thing have you agreed to?"

"Carlisle is a long time friend," Charlie continued, unfazed as he took a sip of beer and a bite of fish off his dinner plate, "And I'd be honored to do him a favor."

"But Dad," I insisted, "This is a teenage boy we're talking about, not some simple errand."

"He's supposed to be on his good behavior," Charlie shrugged, "Apparently there's some deal…"

"Okay, well, what did he do wrong in the first place that had his parents sending him over to Forks?"

"Carlisle didn't say. Apparently it was pretty bad, though."

I wanted to smack my forehead on the table.

"Dad! You realize you've invited a strange, dangerous, criminal teenage boy into the house!"

"You're not in any danger, Bella."

"That's not what I'm worried about! What if he steals our cars or something!?"

"Bella," Charlie scolded, "Don't you think you're being a bit prejudiced? You haven't even met him yet and already-"

"How can you be so calm about this? You're a _cop_. You've seen what trouble teenage boys in Forks get into, and we're talking about a boy from _California_."

"Bella," Charlie sighed, "I trust Carlisle, okay?"

I frowned, pushing food around on my plate with my fork and looking down.

"You trust me, don't you, Bells?"

"Yeah," I sighed, "It's the strange teenage boy I don't trust."

Charlie chuckled. I watched him warily as he stood up, taking his plate and my plate with him to the sink.

"Who knows," he mused as he shuffled in the kitchen, swiping off his hands, "Maybe you and him will become friends…"

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Edward

First thoughts:

1. Cold

2. Wet

3. Look, a store with a totem pole in front of it!

4. Misty

5. Suffocation

6. Why is everything looking at me?

My eyes stared out the window as all of Forks closed in on me.

Maybe it's because I'm in a police cruiser…

The cop, my hospitable, gruff looking, and mustache-wearing captor, fiddled with the dials, turning to some oldies' station. The radio was quiet enough that I could hear voices chatter by as we drove through town. Some people looked into the car, probably wondering what young criminal the ol' Chief arrested today. I thought I looked pretty pitiful sitting back there with my arms crossed and a faraway, good-lord-I-wish-I-wasn't-here look. They looked a little scared.

But it wasn't just the people.

It was everything.

_They_ even knew I didn't belong here.

"So, Edward," the cop said, clearing his throat awkwardly, trying to be stiff. I looked up at him with my reserved-for-cops-only look.

"How's the uh…how's the beach in California?"

Beach-y.

"Busy," I responded instead, "And sunny."

"You go there often?"

"Occasionally."

He stopped talking. I had no idea what his intention was. I guess he didn't want to _treat_ me like a criminal…even if I 'was'. Unless he was trying to see if I was suitable enough to stay in the same house as his daughter.

Who, speaking of which, was probably not too pleased with her father obtaining a delinquent. We'd probably keep our distance. Not speaking much. She'd stay out of my way, me out of hers, and everything will be just-

Wait!

I don't have a car to drive!

"Chief Swan," I asked as he perked up, looking at me through the rearview mirror, "How far is school from your house?"

"A few miles I think," he guessed, shrugging, "Why?"

"Am I taking a school bus, then?"

"Not sure yet, actually. Hm…we'll have to figure that out later."

Car. I missed mine. The _only_ other thing I wished I could pack in my suitcase.

I shifted and heard the piece of paper with the rules on them crinkle in my pocket. I ground my teeth. They'd be following me everywhere for the next few months.

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Bella

Yes, I saw the cruiser pull up into the driveway.

Yes, I made sure all my valuables were shoved in my drawers under my clothes.

Yes, I fidgeted and wore my baggiest sweatshirt just in case the kid was some kind of rapist.

Yes, I felt awful about doing all of this, but…

Ugh. Since when did Charlie become so hospitable? He didn't even let me keep that stray dog I found, but he'll bring in a criminal?

This Carlisle better be pretty important to him.

I shoved the curtain closed once I saw Charlie step out. I don't think I could bear seeing how scary this kid looked. I started getting nervous, wiping my hands on my jeans. I began freaking out when I realized I'd chosen particularly form-fitting ones.

Stupid! Bella! Okay, well maybe you can go change or-

I saw the doorknob turn and I jumped. I stared at it blankly before remembering Charlie told me to open it for him in case he was carrying suitcases. I shook my trembling hands and rushed, tripping a little, to go open the door.

Charlie walked in with…no suitcases?

He smiled at me reassuringly and stepped to the side a little.

Oh good God…

The kid was gorgeous. That's an understatement, actually. I felt my heart pound erratically as his beautiful green eyes met mine.

He wore a fading grey t-shirt and beaten-up jeans with holes. His sneakers were equally beaten-up and he wore green boxers that poked out above his dark leather belt. His hair was messy and a beautiful something-like-coppery-bronze color that reminded me oddly of sunlight and honey. He had a small, fading scar on his left side of his face that went from his temple to the top of his cheekbone.

He looked like danger.

Smelled like danger.

Gave off all _signs_ of danger.

But danger never looked so inviting.

I realized neither of us had said anything and Charlie must have taken that as a bad sign because he cleared his throat awkwardly and deep green eyes left mine.

"Bella, this is Edward," Charlie said, smiling warily at me, "Edward, this is my daughter, Bella."

"Hi," Edward said, his voice sending foreign chills down my spine. He stuck out his hand and I shook it, finally finding my voice.

"Hi," I responded back, reminding myself that he was bad news. We didn't exactly smile at each other, but we weren't particularly unfriendly.

Charlie saw that as okay.

"Here, Edward," he said with a relieved sigh, "I'll show you to your room."

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Edward

Okay, so I did give her a few once-overs. God, why didn't anyone tell me she was so beautiful? She practically radiated innocence and kindness and warmth. I knew I was now curious enough to at least _talk_ to her.

I had a strange stomach ache. Probably the kind the cat had before it died.

I didn't look back at Bella as the cop led me up the stairs. He showed me the bathroom, which apparently all _three_ of us will share (wonderful. That's just wonderful). He showed me where his and Bella's rooms were, just in case I needed them for anything of course, and then he showed me my room.

It was right across from Bella's and had a view of the street and the houses on the other side. The mattress was neat-looking and the room was plain. I put my suitcase down at the foot of the bed and looked around. There was a set of drawers, a small closet, and thin curtains. So this is what my jail cell looks like.

Eh. I could've done worse.

"Bed sheets and comforters are in the drawers," the cop said, pointing to the set of drawers, "Bella's making dinner, so just holler if you need anything."

"_No shouting, either," Carlisle had said as his farewell words to me at the airport, "I have eyes in Forks and I will be watching you."_

No hollering, then. Whatever. It takes like two steps to get downstairs anyway.

I took the rules out of my pocket and found the roll of tape masking tape I packed with my socks.

I taped the rules on the wall above the set of drawers. Wind fluttered in from the slightly-open window, making the paper shake, but I smiled in a weird sort of way.

So begins the countdown to freedom.

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**A spin on all those 'Edward-for-some-reason-stays-in-same-house-as-Bella-and-they-fall-in-love' stories. Tell me watcha think. I got a **_**bit**_** of a busy schedule nowadays, so if I a get more 'don't likes' than I do 'yes likes', I might pull the story off.**

**But such is life. Let's not talk of miserable things.**

**Oh, and as always, things will be explained. Further. Hopefully. Maybe. It's also T for today. M for mmmmmmmsoonifIsweartoomuch/mmmmpossiblelemons**

**Review! Don't make me become the grabby, beggy, needy review whore (even if I am….)**

**p.s sorry this is such a long author's note, but just wanted to tell you, if you are a Maria reader, that the epilogue and sequel be on the way! **


	2. New Employed and 'Oh No's For Tomorrow

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**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Oh lordy lordy, thank you all so much for your reviews! I honestly grinned like a maniac while I read them. Thanks for reading and enjoy the chapter!**

**LOOONGGGGG author's note at the end to answer some questions and ask some of my own.**

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Bella

I padded down the hallway in my slippers, brushing my teeth and listening to the wind woosh against the house. The only sounds were the creaking of the floorboards and the steady sound of my brushing. I sighed, looking at the picture frames on the wall. A lot of them were of Charlie and me. Some were of me and my mother. One was of all three of us. Charlie used to have the wedding picture up.

He took it down a few years ago.

I hummed to myself, a nonsense tune, walking back to the bathroom. I could hear the low sound of Edward and Charlie talking downstairs. Discussing ground rules, probably. Poor kid. Taken out of his school and home…

Well, because he did something _bad_, Bella. God.

I cringed at myself when I found myself rationalizing. I glared at myself in the mirror, spitting out my toothpaste. I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve, pausing the movement to look at my confused looking face.

_Stop it_.

Edward had claimed he wasn't hungry, but Charlie insisted on giving him food, so Edward ate a cheese stick and a slice of bread. Probably just to show he was being a good, obedient child and he wasn't on a hunger strike. Or becoming anorexic. Unless being anorexic would make him want his parents to send him home…oh no wait, they'd probably send him to a rehab. Not sure Forks is any better, but hey, at least there are no padded rooms in the house.

Yet.

I ran a comb through my slightly damp hair. Charlie never walked in during my showers, because, well, he was Charlie. It felt weird this time to lock the door when I took a shower. Maybe I was being too precautious.

Or maybe not. Better safe than sorry, right?

No. Charlie knows what he's doing. He wouldn't put himself or you in any danger.

But he's getting old…maybe his head is…

I groaned, resting my forehead against the mirror. Just two days before school started. I had friends to catch up with, school work to get into the swing of, that icky feeling of growing up to get used to. Not to mention teenage angst.

Right. This Edward kid is the least of my problems. Consider him a random foreign exchange student living in the house that doesn't speak any English. Just don't talk to him and keep your doors closed.

Locked, even.

I sprang up when I heard unfamiliar, very non-Charlie footsteps coming up the stairs. I burst out of the bathroom and yanked my bedroom door open, bolting inside and maybe closing the door a little bit too hard.

I listened against the door, hearing the footsteps stop. I could have _sworn_ I heard a chuckle, but the footsteps started up again, followed by the sound of a door closing. I sighed and walked to my bed.

Yeesh.

This was going to be weird.

Edward

I glanced at Bella's closed door, smirking to myself. She was funny. And cute. Oh, and deathly afraid of me. That made it easier to keep my distance. I had an excuse. Can't be sociable if the one receiving the sociable-ness is an unwilling participant. Or if you scare the shit out of her.

I shut the door to my room, walking to my suitcase and pulling out a toothbrush and toothpaste. I pondered walking out and having a rather awkward confrontation with the cop or Bella….

I could do without water. Or a toilet. I'd go once they were sleeping because God only knows I'd get no sleep without the sound of the ocean.

I brushed my teeth dry, sitting on my bed. Then I realized the issue of spitting.

I opened the window because, well, there really was no use in ruining the cop's nice floor and linens. I leaned my head and spat. Then I jumped up so quickly I almost hit my head on the window frame.

Would spitting be considered defiling Forks?

"_You will leave Forks as if you were never there, understand? No vandalizing anything at all," Carlisle had said as he put his hand on my shoulder. He smiled a little and said, "California's already got enough of you, and Forks is a lot smaller. Take it easy on the little guy."_

Whatever. The cop didn't seem to notice and he told me our neighbors were an old couple who slept all day and a grumpy, middle aged man who didn't believe in sunlight so he covered up all his windows.

Sounds like party central here in Forks.

I was making an effort. If Carlisle was here, he'd say the same thing. I'd almost blew it when the cop insisted I had food to eat, because being snarky and attitude-y is what I do when I don't want to eat, but I kept my cool. Maybe the spoiled brat in me is on his way out. That'd make things so much easier. He's such an asshole.

_Just be good_.

Good. What is that anyway? Doesn't it depend on your terms?

'Good' for an assassin is a nice easy kill.

'Good' for a monk is morally right and holy.

'Good' for me is…

I looked at the candy bar I bought at the airport. I already ate some of it, but I unwrapped the rest and took a bite.

Candy bars are pretty good.

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Bella

"Is he still asleep?" I asked Charlie in a whisper.

It was morning. Though, you couldn't really tell because Forks is a consistent grey color at almost all hours of the day. Charlie was sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. He looked up at me and shrugged.

"Why? Do you want me to wake him up?" Charlie asked, casually turning the page of his newspaper.

"No," I said too quickly, lowering my tone and adding, "I was just wondering…"

"Bella…" Charlie warned.

"What?"

"Look," Charlie sighed, "If he makes you uncomfortable, just keep your distance."

"I know that," I said, shuffling to the refrigerator, "It's just…weird."

"You'll get used to him."

I hope not.

"Do you want some more coffee?" I asked, walking by the coffee pot.

"No thanks, I'm trying to cut down," Charlie said with a chuckle. I rolled my eyes and took a bite of a banana.

"So is he going to pay for his own food?" I asked, chewing.

"Yeah, he's getting a job today. Carlisle also told me that he was supposed to do chores around the house. You know, part of punishment and all."

"Are you comfortable with him touching our stuff?"

"Bella…" Charlie warned again.

"Sorry, sorry."

"He'll just be vacuuming and doing dishes anyway, from what Carlisle told me. And if he steps one foot out of line, I'm supposed to send him home."

"And then what?"

"Then Carlisle said he'd be off to military school."

"Why didn't he send him there first?"

"Carlisle believes in second chances. Plus, he thinks the poor boy just needs a change of environment and a slap of reality."

I scoffed and Charlie chuckled.

"So what are you going to do today? I heard Angela's back from Hawaii."

"Yeah," I said, sighing, "I'll probably meet up with her. We'll go back to school shopping or something like that…"

Charlie inspected my face for awhile as I drummed my fingers on the kitchen counter.

"Just pretend like he's not here, all right?" he said at last, patting me on my head as he put his dishes in the sink, "If he's good, he'll be gone in no time."

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Edward

I looked at the dingy little supermarket in front of me as I stepped out of the cruiser. I crossed my arms and set my jaw. So this is what making your own money looks like. A tattered sign, windows with signs advertising sales on foods, and a line up of green shopping carts.

"The manager of this place owes me a favor," the cop said, locking his car and glancing at me, "So you'll probably work here pretty much every day after school. To pay for food and such."

I nodded, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans and chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"It's a walk-able distance from school and home," he continued, "About a mile and a half or so."

I didn't say anything.

"I just couldn't get this old body to walk that far today," he joked, chuckling a little. I fake smiled out of politeness. I was going to be an expert at being someone I'm not by the end of this exile.

"All right, let's go," he said, clearing his throat and walking towards the sign that said Speedway Market. I sighed, tipping my face to the sky and shutting my eyes.

_Just be good_.

I braced my shoulders and set my jaw. Let's get this over with.

Bella

"You look so tan!" I gushed, hugging my friend as she laughed.

"Thanks, I tried," Angela said tucking her hair behind her ear. I closed the door behind her and we walked up the stairs to my room.

"So did you meet any romantic vacation lovers on the beach?" I teased, flopping on my bed once we got into my room.

"Don't try to change the subject, Bella, where is he?" Angela accused, crossing her arms.

"Who?" I asked innocently.

"The stray criminal you took in!"

"First of all, _I_ did not take him in, and second of all, he has a _family_, you know. He's not a stray. He's simply…serving a jail sentence."

"Fine. So where is he? Does he have any tattoos? Does he do drugs? Does he smoke? Drink? Is he scary? Or-"

"He's got a scar…" I said, remembering the scar on his temple.

"Really?" Angela asked, awed, "Where?"

I pointed to my temple. She raised her eyebrows.

"Were you looking that closely?" she accused.

"No! It's pretty visible," I said, but my blush gave me away. Angela pondered for a moment and hopped onto my bed next to me.

"Bella," she said, sighing in mock disappointment, "Is he pretty?"

"What?! Why would you think that-"

"You're bright red."

"Yeah, well-"

"Is he?"

I chewed on my lip and felt the heat on my face. Angela started giggling and I smacked her with a pillow.

"You'll just have to see for yourself, all right?" I muttered as she laughed.

"No, I'm pretty sure I trust your judgment. And your blushes."

"Shut up."

Angela laughed again.

"_You_ still didn't answer my question, Ms. Weber," I accused and it was _Angela_'s turn to blush now.

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We spent an hour or so catching up with each other. Summer crushes (my lack thereof), summer embarrassments, pretty sunsets, bug bites, and everything else there was to tell. We decided to put off shopping for tomorrow and lounged around in my room, eating chips and drinking sodas. I showed her the necklace I found in the beach at La Push, she showed me a picture of her at luau.

Angela and I had been friends since freshman year. We were both kind of shy, kind of boring, kind of average, and we were perfectly okay with admitting it. We got good grades, didn't get in trouble much, and stayed away from trouble mostly.

We were the 'good kids'. The 'obedient daughters'. And lately it'd been only me that's had uneasy thoughts about those titles. I brushed the thoughts away, usually, and didn't give them much more of my time and energy.

Suddenly Angela hopped off my bed and I sat up from my spot on the floor.

"What?" I asked as she ran to the window.

"Is that him!?"

"They're back already?" I asked, scrambling onto my feet.

"Him and your father?"

"Yeah, they went job hunting."

I saw Charlie's cruiser pull into the driveway and I held my breath. I was worried what Angela would say. The last thing I needed was hearing _anything_ someone had to say about my new housemate.

Charlie got out and Edward followed. I let my breath come out in a woosh involuntarily. My heart pounded and my fingers tingled.

My reaction frightened me.

It felt like adrenaline. And it was scaring me. I shook myself out of it.

He was wearing a loose red, flannel button down shirt with the sleeves ripped off so the sleeves ended in the middle of his upper arms, the threads fraying where he had ripped. He wore it unbuttoned, a white shirt underneath. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans and the light caught what appeared to be a gold chain around his neck, the rest of the chain tucked into his shirt.

The muscles of his arms were lean and strong and I could hear Angela's voice, but I couldn't make out what she was saying.

"Bella!"

"Huh? What?"

Angela gave me a peculiar look.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, looking my eyes.

"You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," I insisted, shaking myself out of it with a practiced grin, "Not all of us get beautiful tans at beaches, you know."

Angela rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, did you even hear what I said?" she asked.

"Um…depends…what exactly did you say?"

"I said you're blushes didn't do a good job of describing him," Angela said, smirking at first before becoming shy and awed again, "He's gorgeous. Like an _angel_."

"Yeah, a fallen angel," I muttered, looking at Edward as Charlie chatted with him, "Like Lucifer…"

"Tell me how the whole sharing a bathroom thing goes," Angela added softly, her mind elsewhere as she admired my new housemate.

We stared a while longer before I saw Charlie tip his eyes up to our room. I quickly shut the curtains.

"I think they saw us!" I exclaimed in a whisper.

"Calm down," Angela said, mimicking my tone before her smile dampened, "Only your father saw us, anyway….are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I whispered back as my fingers shook strangely.

We heard the door open downstairs and we scrambled to look normal, even though the door to my room was closed and I knew Charlie would always knock first.

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Edward

Twenty two dollars.

I sighed, tossing my green Speedway employee vest and chipper "Hi! My name is Edward!" nametag inside a drawer.

Twenty nine dollars in cash is all I had left after Carlisle took my bank card. It was just the money under my mattress I had been saving there to keep me from spending it. Now I spent two dollars on the candy bar in the airport, and now five dollars on a sandwich for dinner. I ran a hand through my hair, missing sun and warmth and freedom.

When I had walked up the stairs to my room, I saw the door to Bella's room was closed. There were voices though, and I was curious, but I didn't dare knock to find out.

I flopped down on my mattress and covered my eyes with my arm.

Life sucks.

Mine, in particular, sucks pretty hard.

And I still hadn't said more than one word to this beautiful housemate of mine.

I looked at my hand and grabbed the sharpie from my pocket, writing on the inside of my forearm in small letters, the word:

'talk'

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I stayed in my room doing nothing.

Honestly.

Nothing.

I sat on my bed and dozed off a couple of times, but mostly I just laid there with my hands behind my head, my eyes on the ceiling, and my thoughts someplace far away from here. I thought about sun and heat. I thought about what kind of hellishly boring classes I would have to attend in two days. I thought about Cassius, Brutus, daggers and the Senate. I thought about Elizabeth. I turned on her fan even though it was freezing in my room.

I put the fan on the foot of my bed and stared at it. Spinning steadily and thrumming a whipping noise in the air. It tossed my hair up and I shut my eyes, imagining Chicago and tall buildings and cars.

I wasn't going to survive this year if I was alone with my thoughts this long every day.

I sat up when I heard a knock on my door.

"Wanna bring your dinner down and come eat at the table with us, Edward?" I heard the cop ask through the door.

Not really.

But you all seem like better company than my tortured brain.

"Sure," I called out. I hopped up and swung my door open. I turned and grabbed my sandwich off bedside table and shut off the fan.

The cop was waiting for me outside the door and I followed him downstairs with my sandwich in my right hand. I wondered if he and Bella would give me food if Carlisle hadn't so forcefully told them not to. The cop might. He seemed reasonable enough. Not sure about the girl though…nah, she'd give in eventually. She looked like the type that got guilty easily.

Bella was setting the table when we got downstairs. She turned her head when she saw us coming but then quickly dropped her eyes. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed the pitcher of water as I sat down at the end of the table.

Bella sat at the other end, Charlie between us. She looked up at me once more before glancing back down at her plate. Her cheeks were a wonderful red color. She was wearing her hair up in a messy bun with strands hanging down, a baggy t-shirt, and jeans.

I sighed internally, deciding to embrace my procrastinating soul (because I had the whole year to talk to this girl) and ignoring the screaming little note I wrote on my arm earlier.

Naturally, we started eating in silence.

Bella

"So," Charlie said, clearing his throat as Edward picked some lettuce out of his sandwich. He didn't like lettuce?

"Uh…how's Angela, Bella?" Charlie asked, sipping his beer.

"She's tanner," I said, "But the same."

"That's good," Charlie said.

More silence. I accidentally crossed my legs and my foot hit Edward's leg. I wanted to go die in a hole the moment I realized I did it, but Edward didn't seem to notice, keeping his eyes on his plate. I planted my feet so I didn't give the criminal the idea I was playing footsie with him.

I pushed food around on my plate and listened to Charlie's clanking silverware and the sound of Edward putting his glass of water down every so often.

Stupid idea bringing him down here, Charlie.

Stupid, stupid, stupid idea.

"Are uh…are you two going shopping tomorrow?" Charlie asked.

Poor Charlie. Trying to do Carlisle a favor, keep me sane, and have a conversation at the same time.

"Probably," I said, even though all I really wanted to do was sleep until two in the afternoon and stay in my pajamas all day.

"And are you starting work tomorrow, Edward?" Charlie asked, turning to Edward. Edward nodded silently.

"So I guess we'll all be pretty busy," Charlie said slightly to himself, probably deciding trying to have a conversation just wasn't worth the awkwardness.

Edward and I didn't hold eye contact for the remainder of dinner.

And I'm pretty sure if we can keep that up, we just might survive.

But then a staggering thought occurred to me:

I had one more day of summer left before junior year of high school.

An even more staggering thought followed:

How are my classmates going to feel about the new student? And, more importantly, how would they react when they hear the news that he's living at my house?

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**Trying to build things up slowly. Don't be frustrated by the lack of answers, for all shall be revealed (mystical music here). I'm taking the wrapper off the present slowly, if you will, and I might even go so far as to say that **_**neither**_** of us knows what the surprise inside will be. **

**I'm just running with this one. **

**One thing: **_**All**_** of the "Rules" Carlisle gave Edward were on purpose. Enough said.**

**QUESTION: Should I do the sequel to Maria at the same time I'm doing this story? I tend to get a little woohoo and weird when doing two stories, but maybe y'all think it's worth it? **

**Reviewsies because God only knows how much I need them. **

**(Yes, I did say 'need')**


	3. Sparkly Nails and Flaming Nightmares

**.**

**Disclaimer: It ain't mine.**

**A/N: Hmmm what to say, what to say…**

**Well, stuff happens in this chapter.**

**There you go. Now read on. **

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Edward

"How do you get your hair that color?" the obnoxious little boy asked, grinning up at me and reaching his hand out to touch my hair. I yanked away, scowling at the boy.

His mother was in some other checkout line, looking frazzled as she searched her wallet for coupons. I could kidnap this kid right now and she might not even notice. Though I'm not sure I could last very long hearing this kid yapping away in the trunk of my car.

What car?

Right, I'd probably have to carry him on my shoulder. It'd be too much trouble.

I considered just taping his mouth shut and locking him in the storage closet instead.

The market was pretty mellow today, but maybe it's like that _all_ days. My checkout line was empty, except for the kid standing here but I didn't count him because I could chuck him out the window with one toss. My oh so eager coworkers were pretty average. Different ages. Same melancholy.

Except for this one girl employee, about my age, who was smelling all the soap in the soap aisle. She had given me a sort of knowing smile when I passed by.

"Do you color it?" the boy asked, his eyes getting wide, "With crayon?"

"Look, kid, I was _born_ with this hair," I said, glaring at him as I leaned against the cash registered and crossed my arms. He raised his eyebrows.

"I don't believe you. I've never seen hair like that!"

You live in Forks. You haven't seen a prostitute, a drag queen, or the mirage-like heat rolling off the grass on a hot summer day either.

I chose to ignore him. He chattered on. I cut him off after half a minute of his chattering about the colors of the candy assortment.

"Isn't your mom waiting for you?" I asked impatiently. He looked over his shoulder.

"She told me not to bother her," he said matter-o-factly.

Oh sure, bother the employees instead. They get paid for it.

Not enough. Definitely not enough.

I blew out a breath and looked up at the plastered ceilings of the store. Chipped and weary and ugly. I controlled my urge to look at the clock because I know what I saw would only disappoint me. I let my mind wander as I looked at the ceiling. I found myself letting out a deep sigh and shutting my eyes. Just get through this day and the rest will be easier. Just this-

"Were you _really_ born with that hair?" a foreign, chipper voice asked. I opened my left eye to see soap-smelling girl leaning her elbows on the conveyer belt of my checkout line and cocking her head with a curious look on her face. I was just happy to see the little boy walking hand-in-hand with his mother out the automatic doors.

"Actually, I was abducted by aliens at the age of seven and they dissected me, inserting the dye for my hair color into my small intestine," I deadpanned, casually looking at the fingernail on my thumb. I gave a side glance to the girl when I realized I broke rule # 8. She grinned at me and I realized she probably wouldn't whine about my snarky 'tude.

"It's like a _bronze_ color," she said, seeming awed as she examined my hair. I was silent, hoping she'd lose interest and leave me alone.

She had spiky black hair, the most original hair I'd seen in my time at Forks so far. She was short and had multiple buttons on her green vest. Her name tag said her name was Mary and she had bright red nail polish with sparkles on them. Her eyes seemed to glitter and her face seemed to glow. She was different. In a good way.

She was wearing skinny, orange acid-wash jeans and a white tank top under her green vest. She had on silver sandals that looked like gladiator shoes and a silver bracelet that wrapped tightly around the middle of her forearm.

"You're new here," she said, ignoring my silence, "And not just to Speedway."

"Yeah," I grumbled, "Obvious, huh?"

"Well, no….you just look like the wind's been taken out of you. Like someone kicked you in the gut."

"Is that the average reaction to arriving in Forks?" I said, rolling my eyes.

I looked up at her after a moment of silence to see she was smiling at me.

"We're going to be friends," she said bluntly and abruptly, "I can see it already."

"Is that so?" I teased as she laughed. But she was refreshing, and her bluntness could beat mine in a fist fight.

"No, we will," she insisted, "You won't be able to survive Forks without me.

I raised my eyebrows and she laughed.

"I'm Alice," she said, sticking out her hand. I frowned in confusion.

"Your nametag says Mary…" I said, trailing off as she looked down at her nametag in the same confusion.

"I know," she said, smiling, "Call me Alice." She grabbed my hand and shook it when I wouldn't. I smiled back.

"Edward," I replied. She nodded, grinning still before releasing my hand. She leaned her elbows against the conveyer belt, looking up at me with bright eyes.

"You starting school at Forks High tomorrow?" she asked. I nodded again.

"Junior?" she guessed. I nodded once again, laughing at her accuracy. Her eyebrows furrowed and she pulled the gold chain from out of my shirt, revealing the cross at the end.

"Catholic?" she asked with the chain around her finger, "Would've never guessed _that_."

"It's more like a good luck charm," I smirked.

"Ex-Christian?"

"I guess."

"Well, I won't share that with Forks, if I were you."

"Why? Is Forks Christian?"

"Mostly."

"Figures," I said, rolling my eyes. She grinned.

"It's a small town stereotype, I know," she said.

"Eh," I shrugged, "Maybe I'll get used to it."

She laughed. It was fascinating, like a tinkling bell. She was strange. And intriguing. Maybe we could be friends.

"Famous last words," she warned in sing-song voice.

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I walked back 'home' in the drizzle. I swung a plastic bag back and forth in my hand. I had bought some pencils, gum, and a notebook on the way back from Speedway. My version of school supplies shopping. I wished I could whistle right now, but I wasn't exactly in the whistling sort of mood.

When I thought about spending my last day of summer, immediately I thought of beaches and fast car rides past palm trees under sun. Then I looked up at the sun I was under, and remembered what my last day of summer really looked like.

My last day of summer looked like grey skies, drizzling rain, empty streets and the promise of judgmental classmates and condescending teachers.

At first I wondered how Alice would spend her last day of summer. Maybe she'd smell all the soap in the aisle and run a kite under a thunderstorm. Build a statue out of the mud or paint a wall in her house. We'd talked a little during the remainder of my hell-sentence and she told me what hours she worked on what days. She also told me she had two fish named Cleo and Piddles.

Then I wondered what Bella was doing on her last day of summer.

There seemed to be a lot of books on the kitchen table and various other places in the house, so maybe she was reading. Maybe she went shopping with her friends. Maybe she…I don't know, what do normal (aka, not Alice) girls in Forks do for fun?

Shit, what was _I_ going to do for fun?

I was a few feet away from the driveway to 'home' when I noticed a big red truck parked right where there had been an empty driveway before. As I walked closer, I saw the contents of a grocery bag spilled out by the front tires. And then I saw Bella, her arms full of shopping bags and plastic bags as she tried to shut the door to the truck with her hips.

I smiled. I walked up to scoop the spilled groceries from off the floor, stood up with them and slammed the truck door shut. Bella jumped and spun around, her hair flying in her face as she looked up at me in alarm.

"Oh!" she said, letting her breath come out in a woosh, "You scared me!"

"Sorry," I said, trying to look apologetic, "You looked like you were having some trouble."

1, 2, 3…9 words, Edward? Wow, aren't you talkative today?

"Right…I was," she said, shifting on her feet, "Um…thank you."

"No problem," I said, shrugging.

I took one of the bags out of the pile in her arms because it looked like it would teeter off and Bella gave me a skeptical look. I blew some hair out of my face and looked pointedly at the door.

"Shall we?" I said, nodding towards it. Bella blushed, for some odd reason, and nodded mutely, shuffling to the door.

"Um…" she said once we got to it, "Would you mind just opening it for me?"

I raised my eyebrows.

"I forgot to lock it when I left," she said in a rush, blushing harder.

"Oh," I said, turning the knob with my free hand and kicking it open. I held it open for Bella as she walked through, mumbling her thanks. We dumped the groceries on the kitchen counter and Bella tossed her shopping bags on the couch. I compared her back to school shopping to my plastic bag and smirked internally.

Bella was frowning at the shopping bags. Weird.

"So uh…" I said, scratching the back of my head with one hand as Bella's eyes followed the motion cautiously, "What time does school start tomorrow?"

"You can't sleep in," she said immediately before her eyes widened and she blushed. I smirked and she averted her eyes.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"No worries."

"Er…classes start at 8:30."

Those fuckers.

"All right," I cringed before shaking my disgust off, "That's…early."

"Yeah…sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," I said, laughing and looking up at her, "It's not your fault, obviously."

"Sor-" Bella began before cutting herself off, "I know, but it must suck to…you know, be here."

She looked at her shoes before looking up at me cautiously. I forced a smile.

"It does suck," I said trying to take the edge off my voice, "But…uh…hopefully I'll be back home soon."

"You like California?"

It's sure as hell better than here.

"Sure," I shrugged, crossing my arms and leaning my side against the kitchen counter. I looked out at the window.

"It's sunny," I said, letting some bitterness wash into my voice.

"Right," Bella mumbled, fiddling with the handle of one of the shopping bags, "Um…Charlie's going to be home soon, so I'll just…you had lunch, right?"

I nodded and picked up my plastic bag, beginning to walk towards the stairs.

"Dinner at 7?" I clarified as I walked up the stairs. Bella nodded mutely and I disappeared up the stairs, feeling sick to my gut when I thought about school tomorrow.

Bella

Once I heard his door slam I let out my breath, realizing I'd been holding it in the whole time. I put my hands over my face, groaning into them. School tomorrow was going to be hell. To make matters worse, I had to think even _more_ about school today when I went shopping. If the regular, awkward shopping trips were bad, ones that required me to think about junior year were worse.

I could only imagine the rumors that would be floating around school tomorrow when Edward walked in.

Would he tell everyone he was living in my house?

Would he talk about how boring I am?

Would he try to embarrass me during the day?

I honestly had no idea what to expect. So far, we'd only had one short conversation, and that hardly counts. We're in my house. With his father's and Charlie's rules. He _had_ to be nice. In school…well, he could make some friends and they'll back him up if I tattle on him for being 'mean'.

Ugh. Stop treating him like he's some criminal mastermind.

_Unless he is_…

Stop it.

I sighed. I know Angela wouldn't tell anyone, and so far, she was the only one that knew. I don't know who Charlie told, but if any nosy, up-in-your business, small town parent heard about this, they might not be as understanding as Charlie. Plus, if one person hears…everyone hears.

Who would he be friends with?

Is he allowed to make friends?

I scolded myself internally. Of course he's allowed to make friends….right?

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"All right, kid, here's the deal," Charlie said, adjusting his belt as he handed Edward a slip of paper, "These are emergency numbers. The first one is mine, and the other one is Bella's. You are to use these for _emergency only_. Okay?"

Edward raised his eyebrows at the paper, glanced up at me, and then nodded at Charlie.

"I'm assuming Carlisle told you about your Five Strikes Rule?" Charlie asked. Edward nodded again.

We were standing at the kitchen counter, discussing rules and protocol for tomorrow. I was drumming my fingers and staring at the table.

"Okay, so before Strike One, you have quite a few liberties. You're allowed to have your phone, a key to the house, and an 11 o'clock curfew, for example," Charlie went on as Edward entered our phone numbers into his phone. I would have protested against it, but I knew my arguments would be weak. He couldn't do harm with a phone number, right?

"But after you get to Strike One, after slipping up a little, some of those liberties are taken away. We clear?"

Edward nodded again, shutting his phone and shoving the piece of paper into his pocket.

"Good," Charlie sighed, "Now as for transportation to school, I don't really have time to drive you, not that you'd want to be escorted in a police cruiser, and it's cruel to make you walk before Strike One…"

He trailed off, looking at me. Edward's eyes fell on mine as well.

"I'm driving him?" I asked Charlie.

"That would work best," Charlie said, pleading with me with his eyes. I chewed on my lip.

"Yeah, that's fine," I said, trying to be nonchalant and avoiding Edward's eyes.

He seemed to be avoiding mine.

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_The flames were thick and the smoke wrapped its hot hands around my neck. I clutched the back of my chair, my eyes wide with wonder and terror as I took in the crackling fire on the wood table. I was transfixed by the fire devouring the yellow-painted kitchen walls, leaving a hot trail of black and red embers. _

_Tears streamed down my face, but I was frozen. _

_Heat enveloped me and I felt the flames getting closer. I turned around to see the plants by the windows falling into the flames by the couch. I sobbed and called out. _

"_Mommy!" I called out, gripping the chair, "Daddy! Mommy! Help me!"_

_My lungs contracted and coughed against the smoke, falling over out of exhaustion and lack of oxygen. My breathing came out rapidly, but I kept calling their names. My eyes fluttered and my limbs were numbing. Their names came out in whispers. _

_Before my eyes shut, I heard a faraway voice. _

"_Edward!"_

"_I…Mommy…I-" I whispered before my eyes shut, the voice calling my name over and over again. It was getting farther before it was swallowed by the darkness._

"_Edward!"_

I jolted in my bed, sitting straight up in the darkness. My breathing was heavy and I clutched the sheets. The window was open, spraying in drizzles of water as the thunder shook the house. Tears were in the corners of my eye and I wiped them away with the back of my hand, too used to this nightmare to be scared, but not familiar enough to not freak out and fucking _cry_ in my sleep.

I let out a shaky breath, grabbing a cigarette from the bedside table but wishing I didn't have to. I climbed out of bed, the cool air hitting my bare chest. I walked over to the window, opening it as wide as it would go.

It was pitch black out as I stood in the shadows, leaning my back against the wall next to the window and letting the rain spray the bedroom floor. The cool air was oddly refreshing and I brought the cigarette to my lips, lighting it with my lighter and taking a deep drag.

I tossed my lighter against the floor, holding the cigarette between my lips and running two hands through my hair. I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes before crossing my arms.

I felt desperation washing over me and I sighed, sinking to the floor and sitting with my back against the wall and my elbows on my knees.

My phone buzzed by my bedside table and I frowned.

I stood up and walked over to it. The screen said it was a text from Alice. I opened it.

_You've probably been awaken by the thunderstorm. So I just want to tell you that tomorrow, even if no one else will talk to you…well, I probably will. Meet me at the front door._

_Sleep well_

_-Alice_

I rubbed my eye and chuckled without humor at the last part. I sat on my bed and responded.

_Thanks, Mary. Just wake me when the year's over, would you?_

_-Edward_

Bella

It was amazing that even if I've lived in Forks all my life, I still had trouble sleeping through thunderstorms. Maybe it was the nerves.

Didn't matter. I was up now.

I had tiptoed out of my room a while ago, just sitting out in the hallway because the thunder wasn't as loud out here. I kept the bathroom light on because the flashes of lightening seemed less eerie with it on.

And then I heard Edward mumbling in his sleep.

"No," his voice had muttered quietly, "No. Come back."

I felt my heart drop at his sad tone. Even though he wasn't standing in front of me and he couldn't see me, I dropped my gaze to my feet, as if I was hearing something private. I walked up to shut the bathroom off and walked back to open my door.

I gazed sadly at his closed door.

It sounded like he had been slapped in the face.

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**Alice arrives! Hurray! And first day of school tomorrow! Uh…not so hurray…but we shall see. **

**Drop me a review! Oooh and tell me if you think you know what's up with Edward! **

**I love hearing theories!**


	4. Sleep Deprived and Ghost of Lauren Past

**.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**A/N: Sigh. My computer crashed the other day. Yes. I know. Depressing.**

**So that explains the wait. And my dismal mood. **

**Another deep sigh.**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

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"Edward," I said, shaking his shoulder. I sighed when he didn't stir. I felt my mouth twitch at his sleeping form. Well, he'd stayed awake for about an hour. Maybe the caffeine would kick in soon…

His head was pressed against the glass of the window, his mouth slightly open, and his eyes shut.

Halfway through the drive to school, I realized he'd fallen asleep. We'd talked scarcely…and by scarcely, I mean basically none at all. Which is maybe why he fell asleep. I sighed and unbuckled my seatbelt. We were in the school parking lot, but I wasn't in a rush to get going.

"Edward!" I said louder, closer to his ear. He jumped, blinking his eyes open and squinting one at me. I smiled because I couldn't help it. He looked confused and his hair was messed up from sleeping against the window. I leaned away once his green eyes, lids-drooped and lazy and beautiful, locked with mine.

"You fell asleep," I said, reaching to grab my backpack from the back seat. He yawned, rubbing his eyes and scratching his stomach.

"How are you so cheery?" he grumbled, closing his eyes again and resting his head on the window.

"Practice. A lot of it."

He raised his eyebrows but his eyes were still closed.

"How much time do we have?" he asked without much excitement and a deep sigh.

"Not much," I said, mirroring his tone.

"You don't sound too thrilled."

"I…well, I'm not…"

I stared at the steering wheel as silence followed. I looked over to see Edward was looking at me with lazy eyes again. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked laid back. Funny how that is mixed up with fatigue so often.

"Nevermind," I said, shaking my head and unlocking the doors. I climbed out, praying to God he'd follow.

I shut the door and he was already standing by the trunk of my truck. He still looked sleepy, but he had his ratty, graying, black backpack slung over one shoulder. Where all his belongings ratty?

He had fading, hole-y jeans and a pale blue t-shirt. It looked like someone wrote with Sharpie on the hem, but I couldn't make out the words. There was writing on the collar too and some sort of doodle of a moose on the back of the right shoulder. His sneakers were falling apart and the laces were filthy. He was channeling hobo-chic.

I forced a tight smile, adjusting the strap of my backpack and we walked towards the school doors. Why did it feel so intimidating this year?

People I knew, people I knew who didn't know me, people I never talked to, and people I ignored all were taking the same walk to the school. They leaned against cars, embracing and chattering and grinning. They walked in pairs, triplets, and crowds to the school doors, all taking different routes. Around cars, down the middle, zig-zagging because they got caught up in their conversation. And anyone who looked my way did a double take when they saw the foreign person standing next to me.

A foreign person with a beautiful face and a haunting expression and made their hearts pound. A foreign person whose eyes were on the sky and who looked like he could fall over from fatigue at any time.

"Are people nice, here?" Edward asked suddenly, glancing at me as we walked.

"Um…yeah, I guess," I responded with a shrug, "Why do you ask?"

"We're avoiding them," he said, gesturing with his hand at the slow, straight-line path we were making that looked significantly different from the more free-spirited walks of my peers. He raised one eyebrow at me.

"I kind of…" I began, blushing, "Keep to myself a lot…"

Why did I say that?!

"No criticism here," Edward responded, seeming to grumble as he looked at the floor, "But everyone seems to be looking at you…"

I snapped my head up, looking around. People were looking at Edward. I laughed and shook my head.

"Everyone's looking at _you_."

"Me? Because I'm the new kid?"

"I guess so."

"Or do I have something in my teeth?" he teased, leaning down and baring his pearly whites at me. I laughed and he grinned.

"Edward!" a chipper voice called out. Edward turned away from me, looking at a girl standing at the entrance. I smiled to myself in a sort of resignation.

Of course he'd be friends with Alice.

She was wearing some sort of large t-shirt with many, many colorful fishes designed on it. She had a light brown, weaved, belt around her waist and black skinny jeans with silver stitching on the knees and ankles.

I can't tell you how many times I wished I could dress like Alice.

She had two cups of, what I'm guessing was, coffee and was waving at Edward. She smiled at me too, like she always did, and I smiled hesitantly back.

"I'll see you later, Edward," I said, inching away from him and towards the entrance, "Don't get into any trouble."

Edward laughed at that.

"Okay, I'll see you, then."

I sighed and felt relieved, for some reason. Maybe it's because I could just let Edward travel towards the Alice-type group and we could live this year separately. Normally.

Edward

I watched her go, torn between coffee and a girl that fascinated me. A girl that smelled amazing in the morning and was a few inches away from my face a few minutes ago when she had to wake me up after I fell asleep in her car.

I guiltily chose the coffee because I apparently don't have any balls.

Alice grinned at me, looking smug for some reason. I took the coffee from her hands and thanked her. I then frowned at her smug expression. She looked like she knew something I didn't know…but probably should know…

"Did you spike it?" I asked, carefully pulling my lips away from the coffee. She laughed.

"If I wanted to spike your drink, you'd be in a hula skirt, football helmet, and halfway to Alaska by now."

"That's nice," I said casually like she was telling me about her fish. We began to walk towards the door and Alice grinned up at me.

"I see you got out of bed okay."

"If by okay you mean with excruciating pain, then yes, I got up okay."

"It'll get easier."

"That's a boldfaced lie."

"I know."

We walked into the school and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. Teenagers and lockers and chattering and eyes looking at me. I let out a shaky sigh. Alice and I had stopped walking.

"So you're rooming with the police chief?" Alice asked, "Or were you just in the mood for a one nighter with his daughter last night?"

"I'm rooming there," I said, laughing, "She has to drive me because I don't have a car."

"Same room?"

"No. I sleep in the guest room. Same bathroom, though…"

"Unfortunately?"

"The bathroom? Or the different rooms?"

"The different rooms."

I frowned at her as she smiled up at me with a smug look again.

"We'll talk about this later," she said, patting my arm, "You have to go to the front desk to get your schedule and locker."

And with that, she skipped off. I watched her go, feeling dumbfounded and confused. Then I realized something.

Where the fuck is the front desk?

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"No, seriously, we could really use you on the team," some Mike kid chattered as we walked out of gym class. The day had been going just fine. Boring classes, dozing off a lot, math class with Alice, accidentally hitting some freshman with the door of my locker, people asking me where I was from but not really talking to me and mostly giving me deer-in-the-headlights looks. It wasn't even lunch time yet. And then gym class came.

So what if I can run faster than all these small-town hicks put together?

Does that mean I'm obligated to be on the fucking track team?

No. So shut up Mike and go get some real hair and get rid of those wannabe-prep clothes.

"I don't do sports," I said, dodging some kid who was running down the hallway with an armful of papers.

"C'mon, man, you could actually help us win something this year," he said, almost begging. I raised an eyebrow, tempted to smack him and damn gym class to hell. Can I drop the class?

"How 'bout I think about it," I said. Mike whooped, which I found unnecessary and rather pathetic. I took a step away from him. And I'd been having such a good day.

"Great, man, thanks so much."

I nodded.

"What class do you have now?" he continued.

"Bio."

"Really? Awesome, so do I!"

Go.

Fuck.

A.

Camel.

"That class is really hard, man," he said, shaking his head, "I think I'm failing."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

Mike laughed, thinking I was kidding.

We walked. He talked. I saw a brick wall and was tempted to go smash my head against it. Why was this kid so annoying?

Just when I thought I was going to get kicked out for homicide, I heard Bella's laughter across the hallway. I looked up to see Bella walking with a light-brown haired girl, books in their hands and Bella laughing at something her friend said.

She looked up at me, our eyes locked, she kind of smiled timidly and I tried to kind of smile timidly back. She glanced at Mike and I wanted to throw him out the window because he was still talking to me. Am I always this violent with annoying douche-bags I just meet?

Mike opened the door to the Bio room and I followed. He chattered on until he realized I needed to talk to the teacher because I was the new kid. I heard the door shut and, I'm not even kidding, smelled Bella walk in. Why did she smell so good? And why could I identify the smell already? I think Alice might have actually spiked my coffee. I honestly wouldn't be surprised.

I talked to the teacher and he grumbled, didn't make small talk like the other teachers, and told me to take a seat. I turned around and was oh so pleased to see all the seats pretty much taken.

"You can take a seat next to Ms. Swan," the teacher said, gesturing to Bella. She looked up when her name was called and glanced at the empty seat next to her. Some girl with fake nails and big blonde hair whispered something in the aisle next to her and Bella blushed, looking at her notebook.

I sat next to Bella and class started. I leaned my elbows on the table and glanced over at her. She was taking notes. I was doodling pictures of giant viruses eating buildings. Five minutes into class and the giant influenza virus had already eaten up all of Forks. Not to mention most of the page I was writing on.

I was bored again, but this blonde chick was staring at me. I felt uncomfortable. I looked over at Bella, whose eyes were transfixed on the notebook. Yeah the blonde chick was kinda hot, I guess, but she looked plastic. And too hopeful. She looked like she knew she could have me tonight.

No dating.

Sorry.

I was told not to leave my mark in Forks. I laughed internally at my sex joke. I'm so gross. Then something else dawned on me, stopping my internal perverted snickering.

It was going to be like I was never here, right?

I realized this with a sort of dismal feeling. I guess things really would be pretty boring here, then. But I also felt relieved. Maybe I could go about this somewhat normally and be back home in no time.

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Bella

It was cold by the time lunch came around. I grabbed my sweater from my locker and prayed Edward hadn't said anything about…well, anything. My house, my habits, my weirdness, my everything. Worse, I hoped he hadn't broadcasted he was living in my house. Because the way Lauren was talking about him…she would start so many rumors about me and I couldn't go through with that again. And Edward would mean no harm, which is the worst part, because he didn't know what any little tidbit of information he shared could do in the hands of Lauren Mallory. But I did.

I felt sick, worse than before, and Angela looked worried as I strolled into the cafeteria.

"It's nothing," I responded to her concerns.

"You didn't look so good the other day either," she said, frowning and putting her hand on my forehead, "Are you sure-"

"Don't worry about it, Angela, I probably just need something in my stomach."

She didn't buy it, but she dropped the topic. I was going into anxiety-mode, tugging at my clothes and feeling ridiculous for doing so, but playing with the stray thread on my sweater too. Angela and I sat down at our normal lunch spot. Occasionally Mike Newton, who I saw bouncing after Edward today, and his posse came and sat down with us, or Angela's friends from Band Club, but normally it was just us.

I watched Lauren walk in with Jessica and felt my insides turn as I struggled not to remember. I mean, Lauren probably didn't remember, so why should I? Half the school probably doesn't remember either, so why am I so worried?

I huffed and Angela looked up at me, but I glued my eyes to my pizza.

It was programmed now, that's why. This stupid, ugly, hateful, closed-off-ness and blend-in-ness. How I wished I walk and dress and talk and laugh and smile like Alice could. But for now, my brain was still content with being in the background. Not quite a high school outcast, but not quite a high school queen. I shook away my thoughts.

Alice skipped into the lunchroom, Edward following behind her with a bored expression on his face. Alice appeared to be chattering away, not noticing how people looked up to give Edward their casual glances laced the Forks Judgment: who are his parents, what do they do, what are his grades, and how does he dress. Everything else doesn't matter here.

And unfortunately for Edward, the cafeteria only knew one of the four. Which means he'd spark curiosity.

"Bella," I heard a voice from behind me say. I turned around to see Lauren standing there with a grin that was practiced enough to look genuine. I put on my not-so-practiced grin.

"So, I heard you're buddies with the new kid," she said, sliding in between Angela and me. Angela chewed on her straw, looking pissed as hell.

"Buddies?" I asked with a very practiced calm. I blinked up at her innocently.

"You walked him to the front door, right?" she said, raising her eyebrows. I noted that Jessica was sitting two tables away, chatting with Tyler as her eyes glanced at Lauren.

"Yeah, he was asking me where he could get his schedule," I lied casually. Lauren's face fell a little.

"Oh," she said, grinning again, "Well, I was just curious. Actually, everyone's wondering what his story is. Mike said he doesn't talk much, but apparently he's a great runner."

I shrugged. Bit into my apple. Looked up at Lauren calmly.

"He's really hot," Lauren said, grinning again even though I already knew what she thought and knew that if she found out he was living in my house, she would ruin me forever. I laughed even though my gut was on fire.

"Already on the prowl?" I teased, being all joking-like. She laughed.

"Of course I am," she said, grinning and standing up, "Thanks for the chat, Bella."

She walked away and Angela gave me a raised-eyebrow look that said I had some explaining to do.

"So it's going to be a secret, then?" Angela said as I looked at my tray, "I mean, I haven't told anyone…but…can you deal with that?"

"I have to," I sighed, "At least until the curiosity winds down."

I looked over at Edward, who was sitting with Alice now. Alice usually sat by herself because she was independent and above all this high school crap and free spirited and not self conscious about what other people think. She usually hung out with the artists and sometimes Band Club, but other than that, she wasn't tied to any group.

I wondered what Edward was telling her.

I wondered what Edward had told _anyone_.

Edward

The pizza was soggy. I stole Alice's sandwich instead.

I was chewing and chewing and chewing and then I realized Alice had abruptly stopped talking. She was staring that far-away look, but this time it was aimed at…

I followed the line of her stare.

Bella.

Interesting. I decided to get her attention. I kicked her leg and she jumped, looking over at me.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" she asked.

"What are you looking at?"

"Oh please, just cut to the 'why' already; I know you figured out who I was staring at," Alice said, rolling her eyes.

"All right," I said, swallowing and putting my sandwich down, "Why?"

"Because she's puuuurrrdddyy."

"Alice, do you have a boyfriend?"

"Yes, actually, and no I am neither bi nor gay."

I laughed.

"So then why were you staring?" I asked again.

"I just told you!"

"But I thought you were kidding."

"Nope."

I gave her a scrutinizing look and then dropped it. If she wanted to be difficult, then fine. She stole the sandwich off my tray.

"Hey!" I said as she took a bite.

"It's my sandwich, bitch. Eat your pizza."

"It's soggy," I whined.

"That's why you're supposed to take the ones in the back."

"Well, you didn't say-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Lessons are better learned the hard way."

"Then why'd you let me take your sandwich in the first place?"

"I'm merciful."

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I took my green vest out of my locker, scowling at it. I really wished I had a match right now. Or my lighter. Too bad I had been in my 'better judgment' mind set when packing my backpack last night. I sighed, tossing the ugly ass thing in my backpack and slamming my locker shut.

I swear, all the freshman in the hallway ducked.

The hallways were a bustlin' and the stoners were a smokin' and Alice was talking to six of them at once. Those artist types. I leaned against my locker, feeling….feeling bored, mostly. Boredom, I decided, was the most excruciating cramp in the world. And I was cramping all over, tempted to snatch one of Alice's friends and steal their joint. Just to shake things up.

But drugs were illegal. And I couldn't remember, but I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to do anything illegal. Technically, smoking underage was illegal too, but cigarettes weren't illegal substances. And hey, I had to keep my sanity somehow.

I watched Alice walk out the door with two of her artsy friends, wondering how the hell they didn't get caught in the school with that shit. She waved to me cheerily.

My fingers were itching to do something. That was the addiction in my talking. I rolled my eyes at myself and felt someone tap my shoulder. I looked down to see Bella standing there, her eyes shifty and her stance stiff.

"Hey," I said, frowning, "What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh. Nothing," she said, shaking her head as if shaking her thoughts of something. She set a determined look on her face and I didn't say anything, letting her do her thing. Whatever thing that was. And yet I couldn't find it in myself to judge her at all. She seemed too angelic.

"Okay," I said, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah…do you have work today?"

"Upsettingly so."

"Okay, so I guess I'll drive you there."

"Thanks."

"It's nothing."

We began walking to the door, me glancing at Bella as her eyes were glued forwards. Was this her normal routine? I was curious about her suddenly. We walked out the door and into the parking lot. Few cars were left, and I guess people were just eager to get out. At least somebody shared my feelings.

I hopped in the car, Bella climbing into the driver's seat. I looked at her as she started the car, her eyes shifty again. But the more I looked at her, the more curious I got. There was just something about her. She looked at me looking at her and I switched my glance to the radio.

She drove in silence. I sat in silence.

"Um…so did you make any friends today?" she asked. Then she blushed.

"Sorry, that came out a lot more….motherly…than I-" she said.

"Actually, I played blocks with Alice and peed my pants and ate glue," I deadpanned. Bella laughed.

"Shut up," she said, blushing and ducking her head as I laughed.

"No, my day was umm….fine. Yeah, I'll call it fine."

"I guess it wasn't too exciting."

"You guess correctly."

"I saw you talking to Mike."

"Does he always have ants up his ass?"

Bella laughed at that and I marveled at the sound, wanting to make her laugh some more, which I found….creepy. Yeah, I'll call it creepy.

"Yeah, but he's harmless," Bella said, grinning in a way that revealed she was definitely lying.

"So you haven't talked to him, then?"

"Okay, normally I try to avoid him."

"And the truth comes out."

"Well besides him, did anyone else bother you?"

"Yeah."

Bella's eyebrows rose.

"The fucking pizza was giving me a lot of grief," I grumbled as Bella rolled her eyes. I grinned.

"Why are you so curious?" I asked further. Bella shrugged, her eyes cautious again. I suddenly figured it out, feeling stupid for not seeing it before.

"I didn't…tell anyone about our…situation," I said, looking out the window now, "If that's what you were worried about…I mean, if you'd rather not have people gossiping, I guess I get it…"

I glanced over to see Bella's face look sad as she watched the road.

"It sounds so stupid," Bella sighed, "I'm sorry I…I guess I make a big deal out of…"

She stopped talking when she saw me just looking at her. Even more interesting.

"Right, um, so…" she stuttered, fiddling with the radio dials. I put my hand over the hand that was pressing random buttons and she looked up at me with shock. I stilled her motions and I locked eyes with her, my eyebrows raised.

"I'm not exactly keen on spreading my biography around either," I said, "And I'm not embarrassed about staying at your house, nor do I harbor any urge to spread rumors about you. I'm not going out of my way to embarrass you, either, so if that takes keeping quiet, then so be it."

Bella pulled her hand away.

"Thanks," she mumbled, "I'm not embarrassed about you living in my…I just…I really don't like the attention. I'm sorry."

Oh. Well, fuck, you don't need to apologize for that. For anything, actually.

"You don't need to explain anything," I said.

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it. Really."

She gave me a thankful smile and we returned to silence.

Bella

I felt stupid. About judging him, about worrying about what people think, about being such a little gossiping middle schooler. God. Edward was so brave and laid back and chill compared to me. And he had more things for people to talk about than I did. Why couldn't I be like that?

So this is the about face, Bella.

Learn at least something from this: you are so worried about being judged, and yet you leave judgment all around you.

Geez. Keep an open mind for once.

I sighed, feeling doubtful I'd be able to face this direction for longer than a few weeks. But hey, I'd try.

And Edward…well, he's not who you thought, right?

So who _is_ he?

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**I'm chug-chug-chuggin' along. That's how I'd describe my speed for this story. There's another big plot thingy next chapter. Wooohoo! I thought I needed to kick start this story.**

**Anyway, I'm again sorry for the wait. If you didn't already read about the unfortunate news up in my other authors note at the top of the chapter: my computer crashed a few days ago. As in broke, dead, gone, finished. Yes, it was aggravating.**

**So that means I had to rewrite everything. Which was just awesome.**

_**Spread the love my way!! (press "review")**_


	5. Routines and Kosher Hot Dog Boyfriends

**.**

**Disclaimer: nopidy nope nope nope not mine**

**A/N: Sorry this took 200 million years! I wrote and rewrote it a couple o' times before getting the basic idea of where I wanted to go with this thing.**

**Anyway, here goes nothing.**

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I felt an elbow nudge me in my side and jumped, waking up to the drawl of the English teacher. He was glaring at me, and I know he saw me sleeping, but I just smiled good-naturedly at him. Then I turned to Alice, who was shaking her head at me.

"Cracking," she whispered with a sigh, using the pet-name she stole from hearing Lauren Mallory gush about me, "Or, you will. If you keep going on the way you're headed, that is."

She drew bunnies wearing masquerade-ball masks on her notebook. I frowned at her.

"Crack?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep. I rubbed my eyes. I thought I'd been doing okay. It's been like…a week? Yeah, a week of this boring hell. I've been an angel. Well, except when I not-really-by-accident tripped Mike for calling Lauren over to talk to us. Lauren actually looked plastic when she smiled. Her eyes told the real story: she wanted me. God only knows why, but I was steering away from that girl, running and screaming like my ass was on fire. She looked like she could hurt me with those claws.

"That's what I said, didn't I?" Alice said with a tone of finality. But I knew, and I didn't need to really ask. We had talked about this before:

I was either going to become boring and blah like the rest of these Forkians. Or I was going to fuck up. Bad. And I didn't really know which one I preferred, but so far I was holding out pretty okay.

I grumbled wordlessness, snuggling my cheek on my extended arm resting on the table again. A week of this and I still wasn't used to first period where I should be having vivid dreams of California and fires and, oddly enough, Bella. I mean, the dreams weren't like creepy or anything, but she sometimes made appearances. Just…there. Not saying anything, but kinda looking at me.

And then I woke up to Alice elbowing me. Normally. Sometimes I'd wake up with my ass on the floor and the whole class plus the teacher staring at me.

A week of getting up and eating toast with butter and jelly.

A week of riding in the car with Bella and making casual small talk before she'd go all quiet and fidgety again.

A week of Alice giving me coffee that didn't do shit for my consciousness.

A week of hearing people whisper about me as I go by, me still wondering what they heard and what they haven't heard.

A week of green vests and work and absolutely nothing interesting happening ever.

I locked my lighter in my cabinet. Firstly because I didn't want to give into the boringness by smoking, because then I'd be nothing but one giant, ashy, lung by the time I was out of here. Secondly because I was resisting temptation.

Alice rummaged through her notebook, pulling out a crumpled ball and chucking it at my head. I squinted one eye open and looked at the paper that had fallen on my lap. Alice was back to doodling already and I sighed, not having the energy to call her out on the fact that she could have just _handed_ me the piece of paper.

I un-crumpled it and read the headline: PIE-FIGHT WORLD RECORD BREAKING!

Underneath was a picture of rows upon rows of tables with pies on them

I flipped the piece of paper over and noticed Alice had already written a nice letter of explanation. I actually had once asked her if she was psychic, and she had just laughed….I don't really know what that means, but I'll store it away with all the other weird Alice-isms I'd come across in the past week. I read the letter:

_Jasper's coming to town next Saturday, and I wanted you to meet him, but then I found this thing and decided to bring both of you along._

That's about as cleared up as it was going to get. She'd already told me, prefacing the news with 'and don't make fun of his name', that her boyfriend's name was Jasper and he was travelling around America selling eco-friendly items and kosher hot dogs. He was a high school drop-out, now 19, and Alice said they were soul mates.

Obviously.

The guy sells kosher hot dogs and tie-dyes his own canvas bags to sell to America.

Need I say more?

I still hadn't responded yes or no yet, wondering what kind of freakish area she was in that had _this_ flier flapping around, but Alice nudged me with another piece of paper.

_It'll be a break from the ol' grind. I promise._

Right. For the whole cracking thing. I appreciated the gesture…

The change in routine wouldn't hurt, I guess. But it was the 'okay' from the Chief that was the issue.

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Bella

I put my notebooks in my locker and grabbed my car keys, looking with envy at Alice's new outfit. Ripped white, loose tank top with holes that showed a blue and green striped tank top she wore underneath. Grey, faded skinny-jeans and red Converses. And she seemed to have a sticker on her forearm that, in multi-colored letters, read, "If you can see this, you may lick me." She also had silver paper clips in her hair, used as clips.

Edward, even though he was walking next to this amazing, independent, free-spirited, beautiful girl with paper clips in her hair, looked glum. And bored. As usual.

"God, what is she wearing?" I heard Lauren's whispered voice ask next to me. I threw up mentally, and punched her mentally, and ripped out her pretty blonde hair mentally.

Then I turned to her with a blank stare, as if I hadn't heard what she said.

"Sorry?" I asked, smiling politely. She was leaning against a locker, filing her nails like a tool, and chewing her gum (like a tool!)

"Why does Edward always hang out with that freak?" Lauren asked, glaring at Alice with lowered eye-lids. I didn't answer, which was the nicest thing I had to say. She doesn't know how I'd kill to be Alice's friend. I mean, Alice smiled and waved and hugged me at random moments, but she did that with everyone. I mean _everyone_. Some people freaked out, other people laughed, other people got all wide-eyed, and then some people hugged her back. No matter what their reaction, Alice just skipped off with her knitted purse that looked like she had knit it herself.

Why oh why was she so perfect?

"Where does he even _live_, anyway?" Lauren asked. I screeched mentally, because I seem to be doing a lot mentally, and gave her a raised-eyebrow, calm look.

"You drive him to work, right?" she said, raising her eyebrows back. Oh yes. Lauren and I had already discussed this, and the story was that Edward didn't have a car (which was true) and that Chief Swan offered me up as a car-pooling buddy (which was also true, but it left out the part where he was living with me). Lauren was jealous, but she hadn't said more after I explained it to her.

"Yup," I said, busying myself with adjusting my notebooks in my locker.

"So you drive him back?"

"Alice does," I lied…sorta. She did sometimes. Charlie already knew what a good kid she was, and he figured she was a good influence on Edward. But mostly I picked him up or he walked. At least, that's what the routine was for the past week.

"Oh."

Lauren scrunched up her face and snapped her gum. The stalkerness, though slightly understandable, was beginning to bother me. I was uncomfortable with her prying so closely. And besides, how would she feel about the love of her life when she realized that he was exiled here for some crime. How would she react if she _found out_ the crime?

How would I act?

I mean, I probably would be okay about it, because I know it's there. I just don't know what it is.

For the past week, I'd been trying to subtly figure out who the real Edward was. Behind all his 'I'm-trying-to-be-good' looks and blank stares out the window of my truck. I was wondering if _I_ was comfortable prying too close. I'm normally not, and normally I'm content with just letting things appear as they seem, but…now I wanted more than content. I wanted to know.

I slammed my locker shot, with maybe a bit too much force, and it startled Lauren who was deep in thought.

"Where are you going?" she asked and damnit all, couldn't she not be nosy for one second?

"I need to go put something in my car before Bio," I said, waving my keys and my stupid stick-figure statue I made in art at her. If I didn't put it away now, I'd let it sit in my locker forever, and then I'd feel guilty about throwing it out at the end of the year.

"Oh," she said, smiling slowly, "Well, I'll see you later then."

I nodded, turning on my heel and marching purposefully towards my truck. I'd never cut a class before, but I was seriously considering hopping in and driving somewhere far away where I could, I don't know, sit and listen to music or something. Or just, do nothing.

When did I get so boring?

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I needed to get a cat or something because seriously, I was talking to myself now. At least if there was some furry animal hanging around I could pretend like I was talking to it instead of to myself. But then I'd have to deal with cat poop…

I sighed and ripped open a box of spaghetti, murmuring my hatred of Lauren and this stupid town. Funny, I never minded this town before. Had I finally wake up from my stupor? Was I finally seeing how much I hated that stupid school and all its stupid teenage nonsense?

Angry, I kicked the cabinet underneath the stove with the point of my toe and _ouch_ that hurt.

I yelped, hopping on one foot and feeling stupid when my hand slipped on the box of pasta that I was going to pour into the pot of boiling water. Feeling even _more_ stupid when I slipped and landed flat on my butt, the pasta flying everywhere.

Nope. I was still Bella. I clearly haven't changed.

Hormonal maybe? My clumsiness usually escalates when I PMS.

Huffing and rubbing my toe in a carpet of uncooked spaghetti sticks, I blew my hair out of my face and nearly died when I saw Edward standing with his elbows pressed against the counter and his eyes wide.

"Errr," I said, blushing some brilliant crimson color, "Hi."

Great. Now he thinks I'm a crazy woman. How excellent. And I was just getting to know the guy…oh well, isn't the first person I've driven away with my spazztic personality.

"How much of that did you see?" I asked, trying to get to my feet. Edward snatched the broom off the hook on the wall, which Charlie put there after realizing my tendency to break or drop things, and held out a hand.

"I walked in about," he mused, his eyes at the ceiling as he pondered, "When you tried to beat up the cabinet."

I took his hand with a grateful smile even though my face was on fire.

"Oh, I didn't hear you," I murmured, embarrassed. He smiled and once I was steady, I dropped his hand like it was a disease. I felt my adrenal glands kicking in when he stood two inches from me, his eyes surveying the damage in the kitchen all casual-like while I was having a mini heart attack because he smelled really good and had this attractive haze rolling off him that made me want to step closer.

Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight.

"Um," he said, finally looking at me, "So, cereal tonight then?"

I laughed and took the broom from his hands, shaking my head.

"I have macaroni too," I said, bending down to sweep up the debri.

Edward bent down too, scooping up spaghetti in his hand and placing it in the dustpan I was holding. I gave him a timid, grateful smile and he smirked in response. Then I stood up to quickly and knocked heads with Edward.

"Ouch," I murmured as he just laughed, standing up and steadying me as I held my head.

"You okay?" he laughed, ducking his head a little to look into my eyes.

"I'm fine," I said, waving it off even though I was red again from the extra clumsiness today, "Um…are you-"

"I'm fine," he said, still laughing as he took the dustpan from me. When his back was turned, I scolded myself silently.

I rubbed my eyes and grabbed a box of macaroni from a cabinet.

"I'd tell you that I'm not always this clumsy," I said, glancing over at him sheepishly as I adjusted the dials on the stove, "But then I'd be lying."

"Really?" he asked. I nodded, blushing and focusing on the bubbling water in the pot. I felt the macaroni being taken from my hand.

"In that case, maybe I should handle dinner," he said teasingly, taking the box from me. He still had his green vest on, a black t-shirt underneath, a black sweatband in the middle of his forearm, and his same ratty sneakers. I noticed there was a red button on his vest that said, 'eat children' in plain pink lettering.

"That's a friendly button," I said, walking over to get the butter from the refrigerator as he dumped the pasta in.

"Alice gave it to me," he laughed, "This button is nothing compared to what her vest looks like."

"Your boss doesn't mind?"

"I hardly see the guy. In passing, if anything."

"Oh."

I handed him the butter, grabbing a water from the refrigerator.

"Want something?" I asked, proud of myself for being so casual with the guy. Actually, it was easier than it thought. Nice, even. He had a kind of calming vibe, despite the fact he made my heart go berserko with conflicting emotions.

"Yeah, got any scotch?" he asked. I tossed him a narrow-eyed look and he rolled his eyes, smirking at me.

"Kidding, Bella," he said, amused with my reaction, "I'll take a soda, pretty please."

I handed it to him and he stepped away from the stove, glancing at his watch and opening the can with one thumb. I gnawed on my lip.

"How long are we supposed to wait for these things?" he asked, (I'm assuming) referring to the pasta.

"Err, whenever the noodles are soft, I guess," I said, shrugging.

"You don't have set time?"

"Not really. Why?"

"I don't know. You just…I don't know, seem to have everything in order, so I thought the same would apply to cooking."

I laughed outright at that.

"What?" he asked, smiling back.

"I don't exactly have everything in order."

"Don't you?"

"You've known me for like a week," I quipped, rolling my eyes, "How would you know I have everything 'in order'?"

"Well," he said, crossing his arms and leaning his side against the counter, "You wake up on time, you sit in the same chair every morning drinking from the same cup, you park your car in the same spot, you have your bag in the same spot on the couch when you get home, you make dinner at the same time everyday, you-"

"Yeah, but I don't _fall down_ while making dinner every day," I defended, even though inside my face fell because really, I was so boring and so stupid to delude myself into ever being attracted to him at all with his beautiful smell and beautiful face and dangerous vibes because, honestly, what could a girl like me do for a girl like him? Nothing. So as much as I wanted to keep our separate ways because the logical side of me said that was easier, I knew the other, suppressed part told me I wanted nothing more than to step closer to this guy.

And the conflicted feelings were back again, but I was a master at keeping a plastered smile.

"Nothing wrong with having things in order," he shrugged, running his finger around the rim of the soda can, "Isn't it easier?"

"I guess it would be," I said, "If I _did_. But I don't, so I wouldn't really know."

These shouting devils and angels on my shoulder sure as hell don't say I have anything in order.

"Yeah, yeah," he laughed, "You going to Church this Sunday?"

"Hey, following a religion does not mean I have things in order," I defended, "Besides, you're the one with a cross around your neck."

"Chillax," he said in a calm voice, "I wasn't making any assumptions, it was just a simple question."

"Yes, I'm going to church on Sunday," I sighed, "But _everyone_ makes assumptions. It's how people are."

Edward didn't say anything, giving me a blank look that looked…sad?

"Anyway, thanks for helping me," I said, smiling, "I've got homework, so um…I'll check on the pasta in like ten minutes?"

Edward nodded, sipping his soda and slipping his face back into that casual-look. I grabbed my bag off the couch, walking up the stairs and not looking back.

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Edward

"Alice?" I asked her on the phone, lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Yes, buttercup?" she said, sounding preoccupied and I heard what sounded like metal clanging together in the background.

"What's a cocoon?"

"Isn't it that thing caterpillars live in until they become butterflies?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought it was too."

"Yes, that would be it. Why do you ask?"

I didn't answer and the clanging eventually stopped. My silence wasn't on purpose, I was merely trying to find the right words on how to voice my diagnosis on Miss Bella Swan. But there was no need, because Alice let out a laugh that sounded like she knew what I was getting at, and the clanging started up again.

"My, my, doll face," she tinkled with a laugh, "You might be on to something. And how do you plan on helping this girl break out, so to speak?"

"Dunno," I sighed, glancing over at 'The Rules' fluttering from the cold wind blowing through my open window and then at the open drawer with a pack of cigarettes, the lighter hidden from sight somewhere in my suitcase, "Hand her a match and hope for the best?"

Alice 'hmmm'd, the clanging coming to a stop as she said, "I was thinking more along the lines of super glue."

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The cop was sitting on the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose as he read the newspaper. The light from the lamp next to him was the only light in the living room, and he looked up at me when he heard me coming down the stairs. I had a half-eaten popsicle in one hand, a pair of dice in the other.

It was dark outside, and raining, and the cop was giving me a queer look and a scowl was making his way on his cop-ly face.

"Where you going, kid?" he asked, shuffling his newspaper and glancing up at me again. I was at the bottom of the steps now, shoving the dice in my pocket.

"Can't sleep," I said because it was true. He gave me a hard look.

"You're going outside?" he said at last. His face softened momentarily, as if something had crossed his mind that sparked a nostalgic memory.

"Just for a second," I shrugged, "I'm uh…I promise I won't, you know, run or anything."

He looked pointedly at the hook by the door that had his belt and gun hanging around it. I almost laughed.

"No, yeah, I got it," I said, smiling. He smiled back, shuffling his newspapers to signal the end of the conversation.

I pushed the door open, looking at the pouring rain and watching it trickle off the porch roof. I rubbed one eye, realizing I was barefoot and going to get some sort of disease. Like ringworm.

I shook the dice in my palm, squinting up at the rain and finishing my popsicle. I chewed on the stick for a minute, wondering if I was really going to do this thing.

And she had just begun to get used to you.

So here's to fucking up and throwing the year through a leave blower and hoping I come out with both my legs and balls in tact.

Because, hey, I figured I could only walk so far in the desert before I drink the motor oil.

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Bella

When I woke up the next morning, I got dressed and marched down the stairs, ready to make myself a cup of coffee and maybe make a bowl of oatmeal or something for Edward because no doubt, he'd be cranky after the rain. I don't think he likes it too much, and I figured there was no harm in being hospitable, even if he was technically in exile. I forgot that sometimes, and I guess that was a good thing…?

I got to the final step, humming to myself. Then, I looked up and noticed Edward sitting there already, his legs propped up on the kitchen table as he sat in the chair he sat in last night at dinner. He looked tired, and yet his expression was calm as he looked straight forwards. I swallowed nervously. My heart thrummed.

"Morning," he said, still looking forwards as he fiddled with a pair of dice on the table.

"Morning," I responded shakily, walking over to the refrigerator, "You're up early."

"I fell asleep on the porch."

I snapped my head up.

"The _porch_?" I said, raising an eyebrow, "It was raining."

"Yes. And cold."

"Why were you on the porch…?"

"Couldn't sleep."

I shifted on my feet, wondering what to say next. I looked over at him as he played with the dice, slowly looking up at me with a tentative face but calm and casual eyes.

"Bella, how much are you against a break in routine?"

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**All right. You still with me? I hope so.**

**Moving on, I now have a LOT of free time (what with SUMMERRRRRR being here), and so updates should be more frequent. Last week was deep fried hell on a bun, and I barely came out unscathed. But you've heard those excuses before, so I won't go into details.**

**PM/review if yas got one of them questions. **

**Also review because, well, zey make-ah me zee happy girl and make-ah zee updates come-a quicker, eh? (sweet honey dipped baloney, I don't know where that accent came from)**


	6. AntiRoutines and Umbrellas Of Sorts

**.**

**Disclaimer: I own a red hoodie. But I do not own Twilight.**

**A/N: hope this clears up the questions I left ya in the last little cliffie. **

**ENJOY.**

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"A break in routine?" I said, repeating his words in question-form. Edward nodded, averting his eyes to his shoes.

"And by that you mean…" I prompted, tugging awkwardly at the hem of my shirt because I was now under his gaze.

"Come here," he said, swinging his feet off the table and standing in one fluid motion. He began walking up the stairs and I followed hesitantly, not really having another choice. That scared me. I almost waked back down, but I physically couldn't.

Overreacting, Bella, you're just overreacting.

We got up to his room and I cringed, we were going in there? I'd stand at the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder at me, surprised I had followed him perhaps, and pushed the door open.

I'd seen the guest room before. You know, when it was an empty mattress and an open window and dusty floors. But his room…well, it looked alive and dead at the same time. Alive because his suitcase was on the floor, spilled open with clothes. The bed wasn't dressed, and some drawers were open and there was some school work in various places.

Dead because it didn't look like Edward. Or rather, what I thought to be Edward. It looked like…a guest room he was sent in to. He didn't _live_ here. And that made me somewhat sad, for an odd reason. I refocused, though, putting my mind back on track to why I was standing in the doorway of Edward's room.

He walked over to his set of drawers, reaching one hand up so that his shirt raised just-one-tiny-bit above his belt where his boxers were poking out, but it was enough to make a naïve, innocent, good Catholic girl (like moi) blush. So I did.

He grabbed a piece of paper that was taped to the wall above the drawers, turning around and walking towards me, slapping the paper in my palm. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"These are the rules," he said, "Well, my rules, actually. My dad wrote them for me."

"Rules for…what you're not supposed to do while you're here?" I asked as I read them over. Fire? Why was that written twice…? I decided not to ask.

"Right," he said, crossing his arms and watching me read them, "So…uh…what would you do if, this is hypothetical of course…if I broke one?"

I snapped my head up. So by 'break' he meant the literal way. He stared me down, not at all taken aback by my response. I calmed down my reflexive reactions a little, trying to hold back the good Catholic girl in me that was screaming "HONOR THY MOTHER AND THY FATHER!"

"Well, I guess some of these are…breakable," I said, trying to word things correctly as I huffed, "But if you _hurt_ anyone, then-"

"Simmer down, Bella, I'm not planning mass homicide," he said, smirking a little, "But if I was to say…get detention?"

"I mean, I wouldn't…like, tell Charlie..? Is that what you're worried about?"

He chewed on his lip, thinking about that.

"Yeah, okay, I guess I'm worried about that," he replied, shrugging. I sighed.

"Well, I don't want you to think of me like…a cop," I said, "Like Charlie's minion or something…so, how about this? I'm the neutral party that only has one rule."

"And the rule is to not commit mass homicide?" Edward clarified, smirking a little more.

"Not to hurt anyone," I said, trying to be stern even though it was impossible when he smiled crookedly like that.

"Deal," he said, "Should we pinky-promise on it?"

"Edward," I huffed again.

"What? I'm being completely serious."

I rolled my eyes, sticking my pinky out. He did the same, smiling at me even though I had my serious-face on. This only made him smile more. He leaned closer and I reflexively leaned back. Still, nothing fazed him.

"If you break this promise," he said, "I have permission to break your pinky."

"Oh, is that how it goes?" I said, rolling my eyes as he laughed, "Don't worry, I promise."

"Promise."

"Promise," I repeated, nodding. We hooked pinkies like 6 year olds, Edward grinning euphorically and me feeling stupid. He was still leaning close, but then he leaned away and snatched the rules away as he did. He jumped up to tape them back above his dresser and then walked over to me.

"So was that your break in routine?" I asked, glancing at my watch, "Starting the day like two minutes earlier?"

"Sure," he said, smiling like he was the cat planning to eat the canary. I sighed and shook my head at myself.

"When did I start making deals with criminals?" I sighed, alarmed the words had come out of my mouth. Thankfully, Edward just laughed a hearty laugh.

"Technically," he said as we walked down the stairs, "There was no deal making. Just pinky-promising."

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Edward

"_Dice_?!" Alice gaped as we walked down the hallway. I nodded and she plucked the dice out of my palm, which was outstretched towards her. I closed my hand and shoved it in my pocket. She glared at me.

"You decided whether or not to go to the pie-fight using _dice_!?" she clarified.

"Among other things," I said, shrugging, noticing how non-fazed I was by both Alice and Bella today. I guess women didn't scare me if I knew what I was doing. Or thought I knew what I was doing. Or thought my dice knew what they were doing.

"Like?" Alice huffed.

"Uh…whether or not to turn Bella from Obedient Caterpillar to Vibrant Butterfly?"

"You rolled on _that _too!?"

"Yes, would you calm down? It's not like fate is any different."

"Don't start with that, Edward Masen," Alice said menacingly pointing a finger at me, "You _know _I know fate is set for us and not some chance-thing."

I rolled my eyes. Alice was a hippie and shit, so she believed in peace and love and fate and destiny and all that gospel-y stuff. She was glaring at me.

"Fuck you, Edward, I'm pissed," she said, stomping her foot.

"I've noticed."

"Why would you go out of your way to roll dice when you could just decide yes or no by yourself?"

"Because _Edward_ makes bad decisions and _dice_ are a completely neutral party."

"Yeah, clearly. When you decided to go outside in the rain?! I mean, why the hell would you do that?"

"It's part of the ritual."

"Oh, so you don't believe in fate, and yet you still conduct rituals?"

"Chill yer nips, Alice," I said, snatching my dice from her before she chucked it in the garbage or at some poor, unsuspecting freshman. She was still all huffy and had her hand on her jutted hip, being all fierce and 'free the people!'

"I can't believe you didn't want to go to the pie-fight by yourself and you consulted two plastic cubes," she pouted. I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut and pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Alice, just trust me on this. It's just the way I work," I said, so not ready to explain this whole shit-fest that was my childhood to her.

"Fine. But don't come crying to me when you want to make your own decisions and can't."

"I never said I couldn't, just that I was bad at it."

She didn't answer, marching off to her homeroom as I, once again, rolled my eyes. Gee, I couldn't wait to see her reaction when I told her I still needed to get permission from the cop.

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Bella

So, I'm not gonna lie.

I was surprised, when I slammed my locker, to see Alice standing in front of me in all her eccentric glory. She was wearing two pairs of leggings, one was bright red and the other was a sparkly yellow, but both had scratched holes in them, looking stylish and grunge as per usual. She had a long, baggy black tank top (ending just below her butt) and a thin gold belt around her waist. She was wearing ratty black converses with silver laces and, to top it off, a frown that looked like she was going to hurt someone.

Or strangle a small animal.

I smiled shakily at her.

"Hey Alice-" I began before she cut me off.

"Did you know Edward rolled dice to decide whether or not to go with me to a pie fight next Saturday?" she demanded.

Pie fight? Dice? Edward? Next Saturday?

Was that the break in routine?

"Um, no I actually didn't-"

"Yeah, well, he did, and now he's all worried he can't go because your Dad will make him stay in the house and he's worried you won't want to help him if he wants to sneak out so I decided to come over here to get it over with and ask myself if he's allowed out next Saturday."

Wait.

Alice knows?

Well, of course she did. Yeesh, Bella.

"Um…you know that he's…living at my.." I said, picking at my nails. I looked up to see that Alice's face had softened.

"Oh," she said, "Right, sorry, I've known for a while. Don't worry, Edward told me not to tell anyone and I swear I haven't."

"It's fine, I'm just…" I said, shrugging and looking away. God, how I wished I wasn't so self conscious about this stuff anymore.

"No, yeah, I get it," Alice said, sounding truthful, "Sorry I just…barged at you like that. Edward's been pissing me off."

"It's okay," I laughed, staring at my boring sneakers in front of her decked-out ones and laughed internally at the symbolism.

"Anyway, so can he go?" she asked, smiling calmly now in an Alice-way.

"Well, he'd have to ask Charlie," I said, "Because, errr, I'm not like.."

Why is everyone blending me and Charlie together? Do I act that much like a cop? Like an adult? I pushed away the thoughts for later examination, leaning towards the fact that I probably _was_ a old, boring adult at heart.

"Oh, I get it. That's fine. I'll just tell him to grow some balls and ask already."

"Okay," I laughed.

"Sorry again for like, throwing up on you."

I laughed again at the exaggeration.

"It's fine."

"Thanks, Bella. I'll see you around!"

She skipped off, leaving me half-smiling and a little bit dumbfounded.

Why a pie fight?

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"My shirt is inside out," Edward mumbled, picking at his shirt which was, in fact, inside out. I smirked, doodling on the paper to keep from staring at him. We were in Bio, and the teacher was late again. No one seemed to mind, considering he was probably holed up in the janitor's closet with some poor intern.

"How did you not notice?" he asked, squinting over at me. I shrugged, shifting and awkwardly glancing at him.

"I thought it was a fashion statement."

"Does that mean I win America' Next Top Model?"

"Maybe, like, Project Runway?"

"Hm. I should wear my shirts like this all the time…" he mumbled half to himself, making me smile again.

"Why didn't Alice notice?" I asked, glancing back down at my doodle and proud at my casual-conversation making skills.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Alice wears paperclips in her hair..."

"Touché."

He smirked at me, and we fell into a silence. He tapped his pen against the lab table and I willed the time to stop so the teacher would never come because…well, I guess this was kind of pathetic, but sitting in silence with Edward was starting to grow on me…

Yeah, it was pathetic. No wonder people are mistaking you for cops and grandmothers.

But still, I couldn't help but feel as if Edward and I had come to some sort of…agreement of sorts. The starts of a friendship, and the end of too many awkward I-don't-really-know-you-yet-but-I-drive-you-to-school moments.

I glanced over at his own doodling, which looked a lot cooler than my stupid little spirals in the margins of my notebook. On his notebook were cars with faces, looking like they were chewing down people, and scribbled little flames in the background.

"Alice taught me how to draw them at work," he laughed when he noticed me looking, glancing smugly at me as he pulled a receipt out to show the original doodle which was drawn on the back and looked like a less-detailed version of the doodle on his notebook now.

"Busy shift, then?" I said, laughing.

He laughed and we fell into silence again. Finally, the teacher barged into the room, slipping on his untied shoelaces and making the class snicker. Class began, and I wanted to tell Edward to teach me how to draw man-eating cars on fire. I wanted to spend the class whispering about how to draw the wheels just right, but I didn't. I shifted my stool farther away, hiding behind a curtain of hair and blushing from my thoughts. Stupid.

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Edward

"Fuck, it's icy out?" I asked, scrunching my nose up at Alice, who was pulling a bright yellow windbreaker out of her locker. She glared at the glass door with a frown.

"Random weather PMSing this time of year," she sighed, "It gets very emotional when it menstruates."

"Is there some like birth control it can take for that?"

"Yeah, it's called an umbrella."

"It wasn't raining this morning," I whined.

"What about 'mood swings' don't you comprehend?"

I mumbled, pulling my hood up on my red hoodie. Alice glanced up at me, smiling.

"I like that color on you," she said approvingly, "It looks very edgy with that black t-shirt and little cross you got going on. Very teenage-angst chic."

"Um…thanks? You know my shirt was inside out today," I said, frowning at her, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh. I thought it was on purpose."

"That's what Bella said," I said, rolling my eyes, "Do I really come off that fashion forward?"

"Chica, you're hanging out with the most crazy-dressed person in all of Forks' student body," Alice said, rolling her eyes, "Of course you come off fashion forward."

"Crazy isn't the same as fashion," I said as Alice snorted, "And I didn't know you knew you dressed crazy…well, I mean, you obviously do, but I didn't know you were aware that you did."

"Well, when I look in the mirror and then at how the rest of the school is dressing…"

"Fine, fine, point taken," I said, brushing it off. And, as an afterthought, I added, "And don't call me 'chica.'"

"Do you have an umbrella?" Alice asked, ignoring my protest against her nickname for me.

"I'm going in a car, so-" I said as Alice shoved a pink Hannah Montana umbrella in my face. She walked off before I could protest, calling that she would see me at work. I looked down at the umbrella. Well, what the hell was I going to do with this?

I sighed, walking down the halls and through the door. Icy rain was falling, and it was like what? Late September? Little fuckers. I glared up at the hormonal sky, popping open the Hannah Montana umbrella and jumping when, under the umbrella, her scary looking face grinned down at me. Of course Alice didn't own a normal umbrella, considering I saw her decked out with her own Bob the Builder umbrella. I guess I'm somewhat glad I got Hannah over Bob.

"Nice umbrella," a voice called out. I looked over to see some kid I met like once giving me the thumbs up sign and guffawing. Strange kid. Were we friends now? I kinda liked him, so I grinned back. I noticed Lauren Mallory attached to his hip, who was giving me a queer look that made me want to shove the umbrella in her plastic little eyeball.

Violence? When did those thoughts reappear?

_They never left_.

That's a good answer.

I walked over to Bella's truck, noticing she was not here and my shoes were wet and there was rain on the back of my neck. I frowned, wondering if I could pick the lock open with my Hannah Montana umbrella. I was considering it, when I felt a hand come out and grab my arm.

I jumped, but then realized it was Bella, and she was slipping. I gripped her hand, trying to steady her as her feet tried to slip out from under her again. She was bright red, the same color as my sweater and her umbrella was flipped inside out. Her hair was wet, her eyes were wide, and she looked lost and helpless and I wanted to hold her.

"You okay?" I asked, holding her shoulder with one hand and the Hannah Montana umbrella above us. She looked up at me like a lost puppy before shaking herself out of it and giving me a shaky smile.

"I…yeah, the clumsy…" she said, not really making a sentence but waving it off with her hand anyway.

She looked up at the umbrella, furrowing her brow before raising an eyebrow.

"It's Alice's," I explained as she smiled, nodding. My hand was still on her shoulder, and we were standing rather close. She was getting fidgety again, but this time I didn't look away from her eyes. She had warm, beautiful eyes and her skin looked so soft I wanted to touch it. Even her hair, wet and mangled, looked glorious and beautiful. What was wrong with me? I thought I wanted to help the girl, not fall for her?

God, Edward, get a grip on that thing.

And by thing, I mean brain, not…you know…nevermind.

No dating.

_Yeah, but there's no use trying not to get attached now. You know you're going to miss Alice when you fly this coop._

Well. Yeah. But…

_You're just scared she'll run. Like they always do. You little chicken shit. _

"Um…we should," Bella shifted, blushing and reaching for her keys. I extracted her inside-out umbrella from her cold-fingered grip. I fixed it and closed it for her and she mumbled her thanks, opening the car door as I watched her with a new fascination. This girl was so lost. So…innocent and sheltered.

I just wanted to rip the umbrella away from above us, grab her hand, and run in the rain so she could know how it felt.

I tried to convince myself that it was for her own adolescent experience, not because I so wanted to see her sprint through this rain. And so far, it was working, but it would come back to bite me in the butt.

So then I realized I still hadn't said anything as Bella fumbled with her keys. Then I also realized I had nothing to say. And that was okay. Because I took the key from her hands, bumped her hip with mine playfully so she'd move from the door. She smiled sheepishly at me, chewing on her lower lip.

"Hands slippery?" I asked.

"Sure."

I got the door open, unlocking the other door once it was open. I handed the keys to her, wishing I had my own car back, and then climbed into my own seat. We shut the doors at the same time and Bella was looking at her lap. I wanted to roll my eyes, clearly seeing that she was embarrassed about something or another.

"Why the glum face?" I asked, snapping my seat belt and propping my feet on the dashboard.

"Ugh," she groaned, putting her forehead on the wheel, "I'm such a klutz. How are you not making fun of me?"

She tilted her head up a little to look at me, her forehead still on the wheel. Was that a serious question?

"It's endearing," I said, grinning at her and making her blush, "Not to mention, entertaining. Why the hell would I make fun of you for it?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her thoughts and sitting back up, "Never mind. Forget I brought it up."

I didn't respond, but she pulled out of the parking lot with a glum little sigh. Oh great, she was going to be all quiet. That, I could not tolerate. She looked like the type that had a lot to say.

We drove for a minute or two, and I eventually turned on the radio. The rain pelted the windows and the creaky windshield wipers squeaked across the windshield.

I had a lot planned that I was going to say. Really, I did. I was going to talk and get to know the girl, this quiet, polite, mature girl, and then maybe ask her to come do something crazy like go to the pie fight.

But I forgot it all. And I just sat there pretending to look out the window.

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_Flashback_

_I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the pain to go away as every muscle winced away from each kick James sent to my sides. My jaw was bloody, my hands were bruised, and my shirt was ripped. I struggled to get up, only to be kicked down by James again. I spat blood out on the pavement, letting the drizzle falling from the night sky swallow my pain and wash away the stains. _

"_Come on, bitch," James taunting voice, "Get up and fight like you used to."_

_I felt the kicking stop and turned around with my elbows propping myself up on the pavement. I wiped my bloody mouth with the back of my hand, spitting on the ground beside me. My lungs were achy and felt like they were bleeding along with every other fiber in my body._

"_Fine. But don't touch her," I said, my voice thick with pain, "Beat the shit out of my all you want, just don't _fucking_ touch her."_

_His fist came toward my face, but I caught it this time and spun him so fast he couldn't even realize it until he landed on the floor. I stumbled up quickly as James groaned and held his head. My legs were shaky and my breathing was heavier._

_But I couldn't do it. I had my hand in my pocket, my fingers twitching to pull out my lighter._

_Then James started laughing. Really laughing. Like I just told him the world's funniest joke._

"_You'd never," James chortled, the rain smashing his bloody, dirty blonde hair as he grinned a bloody grin, "As much as you want to keep that bitch safe, you could never. Because she'd always come runnin' back my way, and you'd always be the one with the weapon in your pocket, too righteous to fight for what you want."_

_I breathed heavier. _

_I took out my lighter._

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"How'd you get that scar?"

Bella's voice broke me out of my thoughts.

"Which one?" I answered out of reflex as I moved the vacuum back and forth. She was sitting on the kitchen table, doing her homework and keeping me company as I did chores. She gave me a questioning look.

"Oh," I mumbled, "You probably mean the one on my face, right?"

"You have more?"

I shrugged, not really answering.

"I tripped down the stairs when I was little," I said, wondering if I've used that excuse before, "The stairs were still being buffed, but I hit my head on a sharp edge…and, well…yeah."

Bella didn't answer, looking at me intently. I kept moving my arm back and forth with the vacuum, pretending I couldn't see her. But she didn't _look_ like she was gaping. She actually looked…disbelieving.

"What?" I asked her. She shook her head and looked back down at her work.

"Nothing," she said.

"You say that a lot."

She smiled at me sheepishly and I rolled my eyes.

I stopped the vacuum after a moment, leaning one elbow on the handle and turning towards Bella. Her hair was falling in front of her face and she tried to move it away with her hands, but when she saw me looking at her, she stopped.

"So," I sighed, trying to see how to word this, "Do _you_ want to go to a pie fight?"

She looked shocked at first, but then she smiled and laughed a little.

"You don't even know if Charlie will say 'yes' yet. Besides, taking me with you doesn't improve your chances of a 'yes' anyway."

"Yeah, I know. But…I mean, if you wanna go…it'll be fun."

"Aren't you going with Alice?"

"Yes."

"So…"

"So, going with Alice doesn't mean you can't….never mind, if you don't wanna go, that's totally-"

"No," she interrupted. I looked up at her with raised eyebrows and she shrunk back a little, blushing. She chewed on her lip and I waited. She looked up at me slowly.

"Won't it be weird…if I go? I mean, I don't even know Alice that well..."

"You know me."

She thought about this, tapping her pen on the table. Again, I waited patiently. Because really? What else could I do?

"A change in routine?" she asked, smiling a little up at me. And I laughed because she was so right.

"Something like that," I responded with a grin, "Just as healthy for the soul."

She took one more pause, and her expression looked set and resolved.

"A pie fight?" she asked one more time, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes."

A last, final hesitation and….

"Okay."

Ah, the famous last word.

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**Edward's in shell-breaking mode. Well…almost. Anyway, I don't have much to say except to thank you all for your reviews! And also, if you haven't already, check my profile for Alice's Speedway outfit from when Edward first meets her (made by the wonderful Joss17)!**

**As always, drop by and leave me a nice little review to keep them spirits up! Also, if you have any ideas regarding what other types of crazy events Alice should drag Edward (and possibly Bella) to, tell me them! I'm honestly dying to hear your thoughts! **


	7. Pie Fight Virgins and Polaroids

**.**

**Disclaimer: *limps in with broken leg and amputated arm* I got beat up today because I told someone Twilight was mine. So yeah. It's not.**

**A/N: Fun chapter with lots o' Alice and tons o' Edward. Just the way I like it. **

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Bella

Alice ran the paintbrush over my nails with perfect precision, her head slightly cocked as she inspected my nails and talked at the same time. And yes, it was an actual paintbrush. She was painting my nails with the paintbrush from her paint-set that her stepfather in New York (whom Edward said she loathed) gave her. It was kind of unfathomable that Alice would hate anyone, and I guess she never said that she hated her stepfather, but Edward knows these types of things.

In any case, I had some dark blue, expensive, New Yorker paint on my nails. It looked great, but I kind of wondered if it was Alice's big 'go to hell' to her stepfather.

Edward was working a later shift today because apparently Alice forcibly took him shopping the other day and now he needed money so he could not starve to death. Of course, I told him it would definitely not be a problem to feed him, but you know how men are with their anti-codependency issues.

Alice said that a 'decent t-shirt and some non-hobo jeans' came out of the trip, but I guess that doesn't really tell me _exactly _how the trip went.

Edward's been hinting that I'm next on Alice's shopping hit-list, and before today I had scoffed at that because Alice, the _Alice_, would never take me shopping.

But then she offered to paint my nails as we sat on the curb outside Speedway. Completely natural. Completely at ease. Completely not awkward. She was doing most of the talking, about random stuff and what funny thing Edward did to this chubby 6-yr-old in Speedway and Jasper, who I learned was Alice's boyfriend of two years (as well as a bit of a hippie, from what she's told me).

You'd think that with hanging out with a girl, you'd have to go through most of the motions of talking, getting to know them, visiting their house, getting their cell number, talking on the phone at night, etc….but with Alice, it was like she'd known me her whole life. Her painting my nails and laughing and chattering vividly about her boyfriend.

I suspected maybe she did this with all her friends, but I had the sneaking suspicion that she didn't have too many _close_ friends. So I didn't analyzes it any further, watching the sky turn darker than the color on my nails and enjoying Alice's eerily calming company.

"So what are you going to wear to the pie fight?" Alice asked like it wasn't completely random and out of the blue.

Also, Alice was over at our house the other day. She stayed for a while, and once Charlie came, he was a total goner. Alice had this charm, you see, and I'm pretty sure no one could resist it. Naturally, we were allowed to go the pie fight (with proper ground rules, of course). But for the rest of the week, I hadn't really thought about it too much.

Until now.

"Um, anything I'm willing to lose?" I said like it was a question, shrugging.

"Yeah, I guess that's my issue then," Alice sighed, "There is no item of clothing I'm willing to lose."

I also had the sneaking suspicion Alice could turn any ratty object into the most beautiful piece of clothing you had ever seen. Today, she was wearing a red and white polka dot dress with some black Converses and yellow tube-socks that went up mid-calf.

She smiled up at me.

"Are you excited?" she asked.

"I guess," I laughed as she added little white polka dots to the nail on my middle finger, "I've never been to a pie fight before…"

"Well, that's the fun in it, right?"

"I'm just afraid I'll slip on something and have to be taken to the ER."

"It'll be unforgettable, then," Alice beamed, laughing, "And you'll have the scars to prove it."

"Yeah, how embarrassing," I said, rolling my eyes, "Showing off my battle scars from a pie fight."

"A _record breaking_ pie fight," Alice corrected, poking me with the end of her paintbrush. I laughed and we fell into a comfortable silence. Alice was painting a little pink heart on the middle finger nail of my other hand.

"Hey, wanna see something cool?" Alice asked suddenly, dropping the paintbrush into the paint set and looking at me with a gleam in her eyes.

"Sure…?" I said hesitantly. This made Alice laugh, and she snapped her little wooden paint-set closed, holding it by the handle like it was a lunch box. She stood up, hooked her elbow with mine, and yanked up me. We walked past the nail salon and the little Mexican restaurant, Alice talking about how she was taking her break here with Edward when they had thought of the 'idea'.

We got to the end of the strip mall and walked behind the scuba-gear store where there was grass peeking out from the concrete and dust and, more importantly, huge garbage bins.

I raised my eyebrows at Alice who grinned at me.

"You'll see," she promised, leading us to an abandoned, rusty, metal garbage bin that was as wide as my wingspan. She tossed a mischievous and amused look up at me as she unhooked her arm, grabbing the bin and turning it on its wheels so that the back was facing forwards.

"It's our own little makeshift scrapbook!" Alice chirped, clapping her hands together as I looked at the back of the bin.

There were polaroids. Not too many, but there were a few. They were taped on the back. Of course, the first one I noticed was the one of Edward giving the camera (which Alice was probably holding) the middle finger. There was another of some pink and blue cupcakes in a package, another of Alice sticking her tongue out at the camera, one of an old lady with a biker's jacket and a blue Mohawk, another of some little kid licking the bar of a shopping cart, one of Edward's ratty Converse-covered feet standing next to Alice's fluffy pink bunny slippers, one of me sitting on my kitchen counter with my legs crossed with a salad mixing bowl in my lap and my face turned towards an open window, and one of Charlie with his coffee mug in his hand and his wrinkly-eyed grin.

I smiled at all of them and then pointed to the one of me.

"When did you take that one?" I asked curiously.

"I didn't. Edward did."

"Really? When? And how did I not notice?"

"He's stealthy. Being an adolescent criminal and all."

"Did Edward take that one too?" I asked, pointing to the one of Charlie.

"Probably. I mean, I didn't."

"I wonder how he got Charlie to smile that early in the morning…"

"Kid's a charmer."

I laughed, still inspecting all of them with a grin.

"Wow," I said at last, leaning back from my inspection, "That's amazing."

I was touched that there was a picture of me in their little behind-the-trash-can memorabilia.

"I got the camera sometime last week, and just started taking pictures," Alice explained, pointing to the one of her sticking her tongue out, "And when Edward took this one, I decided to keep all the pictures. A scrapbook seemed so…official…and it didn't really fit, you know? So I found this place during break and we taped up the pictures."

"And Edward has the camera now?"

"Yeah, he's a camera hogger," Alice replied, rolling her eyes, "We're supposed to take turns."

"Your boss doesn't mind?"

"Nahhh. As long as we don't break or steal anything or assault the customers, he doesn't give shit."

I was still looking at the picture of me, this time with more curiosity. Why did Edward take one of me? And what made him want to take a picture of me like _that_?

"Alice?" I heard Edward's voice call out from around the corner. Alice and I looked up to see Edward walking towards us with the camera around his neck. He smiled when he saw me and my heart pounded like always. I had almost gotten used to the heart palpitations by now.

He was wearing a yellow t-shirt with what appeared to be words written in black sharpie around the hem and around the collar-area. He still had his green Speedway vest on and a thin white dish towel tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.

"You like it?" he asked me, walking over to us. I nodded and smiled.

"When did you take this one of me?" I asked, pointing to it.

"I think it was a Tuesday…" he said, his eyes up to the sky as he pondered this, "I don't remember. But I thought for sure you would catch me."

"Yeah, my reflexes are real cat-like," I said, rolling my eyes. He laughed and raised a polaroid up between his fingers, smiling his lazy crooked smile.

"New one," he said simply. Alice and I leaned in closer to look at it. It was of a baseball with a fork stabbed through it. Alice snorted and I smiled.

"Some little kid was throwing a tantrum in the silverware aisle and stabbed his baseball with it. His mother got pissed, obviously, and threw the ball away."

"So you picked it up," Alice finished. Edward simply grinned at her.

"Here, I'll put it up," Alice continued, snatching it out of his fingers and popping open her art kit. She pulled out a roll of scotch tape and taped up the picture next to the one of Charlie.

The three of us looked at it, seeing how it fit. And it did. So I smiled again.

"Bella?" Edward asked, breaking the silence and looking at my hands, "Why did you let her do that to you?"

Alice stuck her tongue out, hopping up and grabbing the camera from around Edward's neck. She then kicked him in the shin and skipped off in a huff. Edward and I laughed, walking after her. He reached over to me, hooking his finger around the belt loop of my jeans and pulling me towards him so we fell into the same step. I noticed, from growing a casual friendship with him in the past week or so, that he did things like this. Carefree or happy or just mellow, he'd tug at the hem of my shirt to get my attention or pull me by my belt loops. He did the same thing Alice, and I noticed it was completely normal and friendly and playful and the way Edward was. Like hooking arms with a best friend or walking with your arms around each other's waist.

That didn't stop the fact that it still made my heart pound and my palms sweat.

But I played it off well. God, Bella, he was just being friendly. And I should've been overjoyed that he was being casual and carefree with me now, because that meant our friendship was growing. I was. But apparently my adrenal glands didn't get the message.

Story of my life, right?

"Sorry for keeping you late," he said, "I should've told you I was working the extra shift."

"It's fine," I said, "I got to hang out with Alice."

"Yeah and you let her molest your nails."

"Well, _I_ think it's pretty."

"Is that a heart on your middle finger?"

"Um….yes," I laughed.

"That's ironic. And completely Alice."

I smiled, glad Alice left a part of herself on my nails. Because I realized I rather liked hanging out with her and Edward. It was fun, and I don't think I've ever been so laid back in my life. They were just so easygoing and different from the people in Forks. And I felt a strange sense of freedom when I hung out with them. Must be the vibe they gave off.

"What are you getting for dinner?" I asked him, noticing we were walking with our hips brushing since Edward pulled me closer.

"Well, it's getting kinda late," he sighed, "Wanna go pick up some food at the Mexican place over here?"

"That sounds good. I'll pick up something for Charlie."

When we got to the front of the strip mall, I noticed Edward's backpack resting on the roof of my truck. I was about to ask, but then Alice came skipping up to me, kissing me on the cheek.

"I'll call you," she chirped in a genuine Alice-way. She turned to Edward, patting him on his cheek before pinching it and wiggling it around like a great-aunt would. Edward swatted her hand away and Alice laughed, skipping away.

"Bye!" she called out to us as she made her way to her Porsche with a messenger bag covered with newspaper swinging around her shoulder.

"Ow," Edward mumbled, rubbing his cheek, "Did she leave a mark?"

He leaned closer to me and damnit, Bella, he's asking you a question and all you can do is inhale his pretty and exhilarating scent.

"No, you're unblemished," I ensured, "But I don't think your backpack is."

I pointed to it where I saw green words painted on it. Edward looked over, laughing and cursing in one breath.

We walked over to it and saw the green painted letters in Alice's handwriting on the backpack:

_I'm smelly._

"Wonderful," Edward sighed. I could only laugh. Because Alice did things like this. And it made the day more alive.

"It's okay," I said, "I don't think anyone will notice. And if they do, I don't think they'll really bother you about it."

"Why do you think that?"

I gave him an incredulous look. How did he not know half the student body was scared to death because he was such an enigma? Plus the rumors going around were so crazy I didn't even give them a second thought.

Which was a step forward for me, I guess. I wondered why exactly I didn't bother to listen to them…and I realized it was because my brain was all lax-ified by hanging out with Edward and Alice for the past few weeks. It was nice. Refreshing.

"You didn't hear that kid in Bio talking about how you chopped some kid's head of with an ax in your old school?" I asked, gaping.

"No," Edward said with a laugh, "Well that sure is a new one."

"Obviously. And they're afraid of you."

Edward just grinned smugly in response. I rolled my eyes and opened the door of my truck so I could grab my wallet.

"Are _you _afraid of me?" he asked with a teasing smile as we walked towards the Mexican place. But I wasn't exactly how much of his question was teasing.

I just scoffed in response because I wasn't afraid, not of his friendship. What I was afraid of, however, was my reaction to his touch. That scared me to death.

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Edward

The white Styrofoam cartons were open and spread across the coffee table, the taste of Mexican hot sauce thick on my tongue and the smell of beef taco lingering in the air. Bella and I were sitting on the couch, Bella sitting horizontally and leaning her back against the armrest with her knees bent, the soles of her bare feet on the couch cushion. I was lying upside, my feet crossed and my heels resting on the top part of the couch, my back against the couch cushion, and my head dangling upside down.

Bella was doing homework, her laptop in her lap. She was idly talking to me, sometimes half-talking to herself, and I was just twiddling my thumbs and turning the dials on the little radio that I rested next to me on the couch cushion.

But mostly I was watching the way her mouth moved and the way her eyes traveled across the page and the way she smiled when I said something that made her amused or happy or giggly. She had this serene look on her face, and the windows were open to get the smell of Mexican food out, the wind blowing against her hair and rustling the loose parts of her shirt. It was almost angelic, and I felt myself swallowing nervously. Like it was already judgment day and I hadn't gone to Church nearly all my life.

She had warmed up to me in the past week, which I was thrilled about. She'd gotten a little less on edge after getting to know me, I guess, but I still had this strange urge to figure her out. She teased me about being so mysterious, but it was her with the occasional distant smiles and saddened eyes that frustrated me to know end because I wanted to know what caused them.

I wanted to know why she got this scrunched up look on her face when someone said something during class that she didn't agree with, but didn't speak up. I wanted to know why she got this fire in her eyes when she saw Lauren pushing some freshman boy around the other day, but didn't say anything. I wanted to know why she blushed when I pulled at her belt loops or accidentally kicked my foot with hers. I wanted to know every detail about her and then more.

It was border lining obsession. But I ignored that. Rationalizing and saying I was merely curious.

Merely. Ha.

I almost felt selfish at times for wanting to ask so much about her and not willing to share anything about myself, so I often bit my tongue when I was around her. I also didn't want to sound like a stalker, creepy, psychopathic freak because I had only just made her a friend, and I didn't want to scare her away, right?

"So what are _you_ going to wear to the pie fight?" she asked as I blinked out of my haze. I realized I was still staring at her as I internally rambled.

"Anything. All my clothes are crap."

"Even the ones Alice made you buy?"

"Those are crap too. Pricey crap."

"Have you been to a pie fight before?"

"No."

"Neither have I."

I grinned at her and she grinned back.

"That's nice. So then we're pie fight virgins."

"Guess so," she chuckled/sighed.

She ducked her head back to her homework, a blush on her face now. I was still looking at her when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I sat up, swiveling myself around so I was sitting upright on the couch. I answered my phone.

"Hello?" I said.

"Edward," I heard Carlisle's voice say, sounding pleased, "How are you?"

Actually.

I lot better than I thought….I looked over at Bella again, who was giving me a puzzled look.

"Fine," I said, my voice returning to the curt tone most exiled people take with their exile-ers.

"Get into any trouble?"

"Is that why you're calling?"

"Edward," he sighed, "I'm checking up on you. Your mother and I miss you."

I flicked at the imaginary dust on my pants, scowling at my fingers.

"Well, I'm fine. All my body parts are intact, as well as the body parts of everyone I've met here. I'm well fed, the house is great, school is school, yes I've made friends, and I have a job," I said, huffing, "That cover it all?"

I didn't know why I was being an ass, but part of me was pissed because I feel like talking to Carlisle reminded Bella why I was really here, and in doing that, I'm afraid it was pushing her away from me. Surely she figured out who I was talking to be now. So, I wanted to be as quick as possible.

"Are these friends…"

"Law abiders? Yes."

"And how _are_ you. Really. Be honest, son."

"Honestly," I huffed again, "I'm fine. Better, even."

"Better?"

"Believe it or not."

"All right….well, keep it up and we'll have you home in no time."

Home….?

"Okay."

"Bye, Edward."

"Bye."

I hung up, gazing at the cartons on the coffee table and watching, out of my peripheral vision, Bella shift around a little.

"Was that your dad?" she asked. I nodded with a sigh, smiling at her.

"He's just checking the death toll in Forks."

"Oh?" Bella laughed. Then she gave me a sincere and sheepish look.

"It sounds like he cares," she said plainly, making me do a double take.

"Yeah," I mumbled, picking at my jeans again, "I guess I'm lucky."

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"Are you bringing the camera to the pie fight?" Bell asked as she pulled out of the driveway, glancing at me.

It was another morning. Friday morning, actually, and tomorrow was the long-awaited pie fight. I couldn't tell if I was more excited for the actual throwing of pies, or the fact that Bella would be there as _well_ as the throwing of pies. It should have alarmed me or notified me of the fact that I was forming a crush on Bella, but of course, I was too busy focusing on her blue, chipping nails on the steering wheel and her baggy plaid button down shirt that she stole from the cop when he grew out of it many years ago. She had the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her hair tied in a pony tail that fell and rested on her right shoulder

_I wanted her to wear my shirts_.

Whoa where did _that_ come from?

I shook myself out if it, reminding myself we had recently become rather close friends, and sexually assaulting her would not be a good idea. God, Edward, you fucking cavemen. Must be one of _those_ mornings.

"Probably," I said, refocusing on answering her question as I rested my elbow out of the open window, "But I don't know how I'd carry it without it getting raped by pie bits…"

"True," Bella said, smiling lazily as she drove, her eyes on the road. She glanced up at me shyly, because maybe she saw me staring at her from the corner of my eye.

We both looked away, me smirking like a fool as I drummed my fingers on the side of the window and let the breeze blow through the car.

I thought back to when I was in California, riding in James' convertible with the top rolled down and our cigarettes dangling in our mouths because we thought we were so goddamn cool. The wind felt almost the same. Just apprehensive and cautious, as if it was a warning to me. But it was a bit brisker here in Forks, and suddenly I realized I hadn't been tempted to reach for my lighter since…since Bella and I started getting closer.

It should have struck me as strange, but of course, it didn't. We were friends, right? Good friends, maybe, and good friends help you get out of addiction.

_Or start one._

I looked over at Bella as the scary thought crossed my mind. I looked away quickly, out the window, listening to her hum to herself because she was lost in her thoughts too.

And they always did warn me that addictions were bad.

But somehow, I decided it was too late. I was a bad seed when it came to listening. And by now I was too far gone.

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Bella

I had recently gotten into the habit of sitting next to Alice and Edward during lunch. It happened around last week or so, when Angela said she was sitting with Ben, her recent boyfriend. She asked if I wanted to join, of course, but I didn't want to intrude. The old, sickening, I-have-nowhere-to-sit feeling crept up through my skin and into my gut, but quickly went away when Edward bumped my hip with his, having heard Angela's and mine conversation, and asked if I wanted to sit with him today.

Completely casual. Friendly. Normal. I could do normal.

So I did. And now it'd become a regular occurrence.

Alice had fries, today, and already drowned them in ketchup and mayonnaise as Edward and I watched with similar expressions of disgust.

We sat across from her, our elbows on the table, subconsciously leaning away from Alice's gross food habits, and scrunched up faces.

"What?" Alice said when she saw us, popping open a champagne-shaped bottle of pink lemonade. She poured it into a pink plastic cup with a lemon sticker on it, and I decided not to ask.

"It looks like cat vomit," Edward said bluntly, his face still scrunched up.

"Oh ye of little faith," Alice said, not in the least bit offended because I'm guessing people have had this reaction before, "If thou dost not tryeth, thou shalt not taste deliciousness…eth."

"If thou speaketh of cat vomit, thou hast lost their fucking mind," Edward quipped. Alice just grinned at him.

"Bella will try it," she said.

"Nope. No, I definitely will not," I said immediately, shaking my head with wide eyes, "I'm rather against food poisoning."

Alice took a dramatic slow bite of a fry, but thank God she was using a fork. Edward and I cringed, Edward letting out a noise that sounded like 'disgusting'. Alice just laughed.

"Oh _come on_," she laughed again, "How will you two survive getting hit with pies if you can't watch me eat ketchup and mayonnaise-d fries?"

Edward picked up the polaroid camera from its resting spot on the seat next to him and snapped a picture of her, the camera making a loud 'zzzzzz' noise as the picture was taken and the polaroid came out. Alice, with a soggy, mayonnaise and ketchup drowned fry dangling from her lips, just scowled at Edward as we laughed, hard, at Alice's dumbstruck expression in the developing picture between Edward's fingers.

She snatched the camera from Edward's hands, but I only half-noticed because I was transfixed with Edward's eyes when he laughed, and it wasn't like my normal ogling today because we was staring back as we grinned at each other.

_Snap. Zzzzzzzzzzz._

I jumped, looking over at Alice who had the camera to her face and the picture coming out. She stuck her tongue out at both of us and waved the picture away when Edward tried to snatch at it.

"You know," Alice said, grinning like the boy who avenged his father, "Jasper's got a chainsaw."

"Of course he does," Edward mumbled.

"So you two better watch yourselves," Alice said, pointing a finger at the both of us.

"Oh, I think we can handle Jasper," I laughed as Alice raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, we'll become his new soul mates when he sees _this_ beautiful picture," Edward said, also laughing.

Alice flapped her own picture in our faces, flailing her arm so fast I couldn't even see what it was exactly of, but I knew it was of Edward and me.

She sat back down, crossing her arms to our quizzical gazes.

"Blackmail," she said plainly, "Bitches."

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I pulled my jacket closer to me, watching people roll in and out of Speedway with groceries and other random objects their children convinced them to get. It was getting dark, but this time Edward had warned me he was working late again.

I was early on purpose.

Alice wasn't working tonight, so I was leaning against my truck with one ear bud of my iPod in my left ear, tonight's reading for English in my hands. But I could hardly focus, so instead I watched the grey clouds in the sky turn into streams of air and back again, my mind wandering freely to nowhere. I was doing this a lot, I noticed. Dazing off and wistfully watching the clouds past. I wondered what had me so six feet under the stars instead of planted firmly in the ground.

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, deciding to go visit the Trashbook, as Edward so lovingly nicknamed it. I shoved my hands in my pockets, leaving my reading inside my truck, and walked behind the end of the strip mall.

There was a single light bulb on the top of the wall, illuminating the metal trashcans back here. I stepped over fallen bins and avoided the beer bottles and soda cans on the ground. I got to the trash bin and turned it the way Alice had, trying to make as little noise as possible as I looked over my shoulder.

When I turned back, I noticed the picture of Alice already added, her eyes wide and her expression stupefied. I chuckled to myself, and was about to turn around when I noticed another addition to the Trashbook. It was of Edward and I in lunch, the one I expected Alice took. We were smiling at each other, our elbows on the table and Edward leaning towards me.

I was looking pretty pathetic, my eyes glued to his in a slightly (oh so slightly) adoring way that had me wondering if I _always_ ogled at him like that. I hoped I was the only one who noticed my forlorn ogling, at least. I sighed at myself, and looked closer. Edward was grinning too, his eyes dancing in a way that, even in a stupid picture, had my heart pounding all over again. But there was something else too, something that mirrored mine. Like there was more here…

Something more than just casual friendship.

I nearly jumped when I felt someone tap me on my shoulder. I turned, and found Alice grinning that psychic's grin at me, all knowing and mystical.

"Oh Bella," she laughed, patting the side of my cheek, "I've known for a long time. Ever since the first day of school."

"What are you- I thought you weren't working tonight."

"I wasn't," she replied, her eyes shining with a far away gleam as she looked at the Trashbook, "But, you know, I had a feeling you'd be early."

She tossed a grin at me, looking innocent and joyful and chillingly correct.

"I still don't…" I tried.

Alice hooked her arm with mine, leading me away with a skip in her step.

"Come on, let's go inside. It's getting dark, and I made you green tea with apple scones."

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**I love fries with ketchup and mayonnaise. It's pretty strange, I know, but I also love Oreos with peanut butter.**

**Anyway, enough about my odd food habits. Next chapter is the pie fight! Yay!**

**Review if you want Edward to tug on your belt loops…..**


	8. Mark Antony and Splattered Clothing

**.**

**Disclaimer: twilight ain't mine. the plot of this here story is. but characters and such belong to them copyrighted folk and their fancy shmancy lawyers.**

**A/N: PIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE FIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTT.**

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Bella

Edward had the Polaroid camera around his neck, a green hunting hat on his head, a pink polo shirt with one side of the collar popped, his usual ripped jeans, and red Converses. The polo shirt had clearly never been worn before, but Edward said it was because it was from when his mother tried to make him into a prep. He also said he brought it to Forks for "shits and giggles". And as for the hunting hat, I didn't even bother to ask.

I was wearing the ripped jeans I hadn't worn since forever, a black tank top, Edward's blue Dodgers baseball cap he let me borrow because he was wearing his hunting hat, and a purple zip-up hoodie that was currently slipping off one shoulder. Even the hoodie had holes in it. The holes in my jeans were genuinely earned from various spills and casualties, while the holes in my hoodie were earned from trying to fall back on my elbows or getting caught on some sharp object.

And, to be honest, it felt nice to be sporting holes again.

The whole sewing myself up was getting old. Just a bit. The needles were getting rusty.

Alice was wearing a pink tutu skirt around her waist, ripped, acid washed, and bleached red skinny jeans underneath, and a white 'Superman' t-shirt. She had bright white, yellow, and pink plastic pearl necklaces hanging around her neck and black flip flops with colorful plastic beads glued to the straps. Honestly, it didn't look that different from her average outfits, but I guess she thought it was worthy of getting pelted with pies.

Yes. Today was the day of the pie fight.

We were standing by the bus stop in town. The bus that traveled from some faraway place that held grandmothers with knitting needles visiting their grandchildren, weepy runaways looking for a new life, and the hobos just looking for a ride. The bus that would drop of Jasper, the fourth addition to our little pie-fighters' union.

We must have looked pretty ridiculous standing there. Three lost, wretched teenagers standing under an old bus stop sign with the hope of pie and memories and freedom.

"Bella," Edward said from my right side.

I turned to my right, only to see that he was holding the Polaroid in my face to take an unexpected picture. I stuck my tongue out at him and the camera snapped, the buzzy noise resounding through this quiet part of town. He laughed and took out the picture, waving it and raising it up so the sun was behind it. He squinted and smiled.

"That one's a keeper," Alice said, standing on Edward's right and leaning over to examine the picture with him.

"Deserves the blue ribbon, I think," Edward added.

Before I could respond, the sound of big wheels on pavement drowned our laughing. We all looked to our left, where an old, stereotypically small town bus came rolling up to the bus stop. We waited, watching it stop with a weeze and a cough of black exhaust. The doors opened, Alice whispered something to Edward, and people started coming out.

I looked for people who matched Alice's description. Then suddenly, Alice squealed and bolted by Edward and I, jumping into the arms of someone getting off the bus with two duffle bags and a guitar case. There was laughter and talking and kissing before Alice finally climbed off the stranger (keeping an arm around his waist) and we got a good look at him.

Shaggy, sandy blonde hair. Male-model-eque face and smile. Grey eyes. White v-neck t-shirt and silver necklaces around his neck, along with a red, metal peace sign on a thin gold chain. Dirty jeans that looked like they'd seen too much sand and soil. And something about his demeanor held and understanding and knowledge that reminded me of Alice. For some reason.

So _this_ was Jasper.

Alice introduced us, her eyes glancing back at Jasper whenever they could, and I shook hands with the infamous Jasper Hale that I'd heard so much about. But something about him just fit right in. Into the situation, into the friendships, and into the pie fight.

And after the formalities were over, it was like he'd been here forever. Tugging on Alice's tutu, playing with her beads, laughing at Edward's snarky remarks, grinning at me when someone said something that made me blush.

How did people pull that off so easily?

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"My sister and her fiancé own a bar here in Forks," he said, "Maybe you've heard of Rosie's?"

We were driving in my truck. Well, I was driving, Edward was in the passenger's seat, and Alice was sitting in the back with Jasper. I'd rather Alice sit in the front because, knowing me, we'd probably get lost and, knowing Edward, Alice would probably be a much bigger help with direction giving. But of course, she was snuggling with her soul mate, and I couldn't really tear that apart, now could I?

"Rosie's? Yeah, I think I've heard of it," Edward said, as he scanned the sheet of directions, "Never been there, though."

"Yeah, she doesn't tend to give drinks to minors. Not after some kid nearly tore up the place in a drunk rage," Jasper said with a laugh.

"She doesn't even give drinks to _you_?" Edward asked.

"Are you kidding me? I'm the most lightweight, obnoxious, loud, annoying drunk you'll ever meet. She'd have a death wish if she gave me anything less than a sip of Vodka."

"He doesn't really strike people as a lightweight," Alice explained, "And that's usually the worst mistake they make."

We nodded sympathetically.

"Hey Alice, are we headed like, to the middle of nowhere?" Edward asked, changing subjects and leaning his head back to look at Alice.

"Well we can't have the pie fight on Main Street, now can we?" Alice replied.

"Um, I tend to get lost in places like the middle of nowhere," I chimed in, hoping someone would have sense to either put Alice on the wheel or at least get Edward out of here so he stops distracting me with his devilish, brooding good looks and his lack-of-helping-me tendencies.

"It's okay, we've got directions," Edward said, scanning the directions and clearly not noticing my incredulous look. Or maybe he did and he just loved toying with me. Or maybe a mix of both.

"Besides," Jasper said, "Getting lost is the best part."

"Yeah, _okay_," I huffed and then mumbled, "What color is the sky in _your_ world?"

Jasper laughed and Alice giggled.

"She really doesn't like getting lost," Edward explained to Jasper.

"I think he got that, Edward," Alice remarked, "Bella's made herself quite clear the entire ride."

"Well you know women. They're always so cryptic," Edward said, tossing a raised eyebrow look my way. I rolled my eyes, which made his lips twitch.

We chit-chatted some more, laughed some more, I freaked out some more when I saw more and more woods that looked like prime areas for getting lost in, and played some 'Would You Rather'.

"Would you rather…" Alice said, dragging out the phrase as she pondered with her finger on her chin, "Be the third concubine of a CEO…or the first and only spouse of the poorest person in the world?"

"Aren't concubines illegal?" Edward asked.

"Not in all states," Jasper pointed out. We pondered for a moment.

"Would you be in love with either spouse?" I asked.

"Yes. In both marriages, you're in love with your spouse," Alice clarified. More pondering.

"Poorest person in the world," I said after a moment, "Because, well, the CEO can't _really _be in love with you if they have other spouses…"

"They can love you and use the others for the sex," Edward said with a shrug.

"Fine, but that would be twisted love," I responded.

"And?" Edward asked, raising his eyebrows.

"And… I don't want to be a concubine?" I said, giving Edward a strange look as I finished my sentence like it was a question.

Everyone laughed, Edward smirking.

"I agree with Bella," Edward said, "But for different reasons."

"Oh yeah?" Alice scoffed, "Why would you want to be married to the poorest person in the world?"

"Exhibition sex. You probably don't have a house, right?"

"Edward, you can do that if you _do_ have a house," I said, blushing because I'm a prude like that. I knew he was just teasing, probably to get a rise out of me.

"Yes, but having no house gives you an _excuse_."

"You can do it in a dark alley way," Jasper said.

"That's hot too," Alice pointed out. I shook my head, still bright red, and Edward laughed. Boy, does he love making me blush. I think his new favorite hobby is to make me into a non-prude. I can't tell if he's made any progress yet. Unless his new hobby is actually to make me permanently red. That he is _definitely _making progress on.

"Okay, okay, I got one!" Jasper said, "Would you rather die from falling from a building, or from drowning."

"Drowning," Edward said almost immediately, "I'm afraid of heights."

"So you don't wanna like, face your fears in your last moments?" Alice asked.

"Embracing heights to _kill myself_ is hardly facing my fears," Edward said, rolling his eyes.

"Well I'd choose heights," Alice said, "It's like sky diving…without a parachute."

"A serene experience, no doubt," Jasper added.

"And water isn't serene at all?" Edward scoffed.

"Drowning isn't," I pointed out.

"Well neither is falling."

"But when you fall, only the impact is the non-serene part. Drowning….well, you can drown for minutes on end," I explained.

"Depends how long you could hold your breath," Jasper added.

Everyone nodded, Edward still thinking about how to respond to that. There was a brief silence. And then..

"Bella….please tell me that sign did not say we were entering Canada…"

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So we didn't end up getting lost. Believe it or not. Edward was finally helpful.

We finally made it to the pie fight. In one piece. My sanity, maybe not so much, but I still had all my limbs. As we got out of the car, we examined the surroundings. People in trash bags, rain ponchos, ratty overcoats, t-shirts with various names written in big letters (as a way of smiting the person with that particular name, I'm guessing), fancy suits (having the same reasoning as Edward, probably), lab goggles and lab coats, clown suits, and every other outfit under the sun.

And there were _tons_ of people. Definitely record breaking.

There was a small stage in the middle of the flat field, where the leader and coordinator of the pie fight stood, fiddling with a microphone. There was a banner over the stage that read 'P!E' in black letters, splattered with various rainbow colors. The field was wide, and there were dozens upon dozens of pies on wide picnic tables. People convened around them, talking and chatting.

We got our numbers written on our hands and arms like we were in a triathlon, though if we were, we'd probably get them written on our legs. I was number 604, Alice was 601, Edward was 603, and Jasper was 602. Apparently the record was broken back in the 500s, but people were still coming. Edward wrote my number on my forehead, just because he could, considering I left his baseball cap in the car, and I wrote his on his neck. He looked like a troubled convict with 603 written on his neck in black marker like a tattoo, his pink polo contrasting vibrantly with it, and his hunting hat slipping sideways over one of his eyes.

He took plenty of polaroids.

"We need a 'before' picture!" Edward said to us suddenly, "Then I have to go put the Polaroid away."

He grabbed some guy with a sombrero and asked if he would take our picture. We stood together, Edward's arm around my shoulder, my arm around Alice's waist, and Alice's arm around Jasper's waist. We smiled, posing and waiting for the guy to take our picture as a scene from a crazy-convention rolled on behind us. At the last second, Edward tickling my neck with the arm that was around my shoulder, making me burst out in laughter. The camera snapped and buzzed, the sombrero guy walking up to us and giving us our Polaroid. Edward took the picture from the camera and grinned at me as I scowled.

"What? I thought you like those last-second things," he teased with a smirk.

The clatter from the people here was loud. Laughing, talking, cameras snapped, music playing. It was like we all crashed this party and no one even cared. The party was _made_ of party crashers, and that's what made it so smile-inducing.

"Woo!" Alice cheered, clapping her hands once we put the Polaroid away and stood by one of the pie tables, "Are you excited, or what?!"

"I think that guy is wearing a bikini," Edward pointed out, looking over Alice's shoulder.

"I'm pumped, man," Jasper said as we ignored Edward, "But shit, am I hungry."

He eyed the pies and I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"These pies _probably_ aren't that good tasting. Considering they made them for quantity and not for quality…" I reasoned, laughing again as Jasper's face fell.

"I wasn't going to eat one," he said, grinning impishly at me.

"Sure."

"I was just saying that I was hungry."

"Okay."

"Honest to God," he said, still smirking, "You don't believe me?"

"Oh I believe you," I said, nodding slowly and averting my eyes like I was talking to a crazy person. Jasper laughed and pinched my shoulder as I grinned.

"The girl's feisty," Jasper said, turning to Alice, "A kick and a bite."

Okay….

Well, that is not a word I'd use to describe myself. Cowardly, maybe….

What kind of tie-dye has Jasper been inhaling?

"Caged," Alice sighed to Jasper as she glanced over at a smirking Edward, "We're trying to set her free."

Before I could ask what they meant by their cryptic soulmate-speak, there was a loud horn blown from the direction of the stage. All 600-something of the people here turned towards the stage, the talking dying down to a murmur as the coordinator stood with a loudspeaker to his mouth.

"I guess he gave up on the microphone," I mumbled to Edward.

"Everyone knows loudspeakers are more fun," Edward muttered back.

"Now, I don't wanna make this too formal," the coordinator bellowed into the loudspeaker, "Because that wouldn't really be in the spirit of a pie fight. But, I do wanna tell you that we did, in fact, break the record for the most people _showing up_ to a pie fight. We got this handsome, strapping young man from the Guinness Book of World Records here to take our picture and record our location, number of people, and all that fun stuff. Oh, and he'll be taking pictures of us _actually throwing_ some pies too."

Everyone cheered as the 'handsome, strapping young man' with black rimmed glasses wearing a red shirt and suit jacket walked up behind the coordinator on the stage. He took the loudspeaker from the coordinator and cleared his throat.

"If you could all just say cheese…" he said, holding up a camera with his free hand.

The crowd shifted, getting into position. Edward tugged my closer by pulling on my belt loop and I smiled to myself.

"Ready? 1….2…3," the guy said as we the crowd went, "Cheeeeeeeeeeese."

Everyone cheered again once the picture was taken and the coordinator had to blow the horn to get our attention again.

"So there really aren't any rules, now," the coordinator said, "But the next time I blow this horn, it will signify the start of the pie fight. Then you can do whatever the hell you want with those pies, as long as you hit as many people with them as you possibly can. Now, I know there are a lot of various people here; old and young, smart and dumb, insane and sane, and so on, but in this pie fight, those titles and labels don't exactly matter. So have some fun, all right? And save that working, civil stuff for Monday."

We all cheered again, holding our breath and positioning ourselves towards the pie tables. Then the coordinator raised his loudspeaker, the horn blew, and all hell broke free.

People screeched and ran towards the pies, loud footsteps resounding on the field like elephant feet. The music in the background couldn't really be heard, but it didn't matter because I had a pie in my hand and an eager elbow to my gut. I was already laughing with the adrenaline rushing through my veins.

And suddenly pies were flying, following the path of the inhibitions and worries of everyone here. I tried ducking most of them, but I remember the first pie that smacked my face.

If I tried to explain it with words, I'd make it sound too serious. Not serious like bad, but serious as in deeply inspiring and liberating and whatever the hell I'd come up with.

But it wasn't like that. Not at all. It was just….light. And happy. And maybe liberating, but it wasn't like everyone came here to be liberated. We came here to simply throw pies at strangers, laugh at strangers, slip on pie bits and hold on to strangers, and that's what we were doing.

Anyway, the first pie that smacked my face felt gooey and cold. Squishy, too, and it made me gasp and laugh in one breath as I turned around to see who threw it. But just as I did, another pie came to my face and now I was laughing pretty hard.

It was beautiful chaos with pies flying around and shrieking and laughing.

You had to wonder _how_ it was possible for this madness to come about in the span a few minutes.

I swiped at my eyes and chucked pies at everything in my sight. It was every man for themselves, I knew that, but I still tried to look for Alice or Jasper or Edward in the madness. I chucked a pie at a kid with a polo, but he turned around and was wearing a Spongebob mask, so I was guessing it wasn't Edward. Spongbob kid threw a pie at me, hitting me on my thigh, and I laughed pretty hard.

And suddenly I was dueling with this random kid with a Spongebob mask. It was great.

After a few more minutes of constant pie fighting, a truck came by and people with umbrellas and lab goggles came running in to drop off more pies. As I watched them do this, a pie hit me on my neck and I swiveled around, ready to fire my pie at the culprit.

I saw that it was Alice and my eyes narrowed. I chucked the pie at her and it hit…well, the area around her left boob. She gasped and threw another pie at me, making me laugh so hard I thought my gut would fall out. I walked up to her and, before she could run, smashed a pie in her face. She shrieked and pulled the collar of my shirt out, smashing a pie so it was more or less down my shirt.

I squealed, and a pie came flying towards Alice's head and smacked her. It was Jasper, covered in pie, laughing hysterically. Both Alice and I picked up pies and chucked them at him. He yelped and tried to duck, but he couldn't really do anything about his impending doom.

When Alice was busy laughing, I pulled the collar of her shirt out and oh so smoothly dropped some gooey, mushy pie-debris down her shirt.

"Bella!" she shrieked, just as I felt the back of my shirt being pulled out and something gooey smashing against _my_ bare skin. I stumbled back into a very pie-covered Edward, who was grinning maniacally.

Feeling rather….brave and seeing that there was no available pies around, I swiped a fistful of pie goop from my cleavage (where Alice had shoved the pie that had slipped down my shirt) and smashed it into Edward's very wide-eyed face.

I heard Alice and Jasper howling with laughter from behind us and I stuck my tongue out at Edward. Ready to make a run for it, I started to bolt. Then Edward, with his super human belt-loop grabbing skills pulled, me back.

This was not a good move, as there was an inch of pie goop on the ground. I slipped, naturally, and gripped onto Edward with a yelp, who fell back onto the ground with me pretty much on top of him.

"Edward!" I yelled, "You made me fall!"

He was laughing pretty hard, looking rather ridiculous with his hunting hat covered in pie and his polo somewhat pulled over one shoulder because it slipped like that in the fall. I smacked his chest and noticed a pie near his head. I picked it up and held it over him.

His laughing slowed down, morphing into a sly grin.

"You're going to hit me with that?" he taunted, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Shy little Bella…" he said, shaking his head with a sigh, "Surely you know the consequences for hitting _me_ with that pie."

"You can't sweet talk your way out of this one," I said, noticing that we were in a compromising position, but not unlike the other wrestling pie-fighters around us who were going ballistic as well. I also noticed that I had one hand on his chest. After noticing that, I pushed any strange fantasies from my mind.

Focus, Bella.

"If you wanted to throw the pie, you would have already done it."

"I'm more of a leave-'em-in-suspense kinda girl."

Edward grinned.

"So do it," he said with a shrug, "Hit me."

And I didn't have an epiphany. Honestly, that's not what it was. It was just a moment where, as I looked down at this 'criminal' beneath me, this 'troublemaker', this enigma of a boy…I wondered if I would really hit him with the pie. And why.

Then I realized….that I _would_ hit him with the pie.

I just would.

Maybe it was symbolic or meaningful, but I looked down at Edward's ridiculous outfit and ridiculous grin, and then I thought…he _wanted_ me to hit him with the pie.

So without making things too serious and without breathing into the essence of this pie fight with too much carbon monoxide, I took a slow breath and smashed the pie against his face. In an instant, so fast I wondered briefly if I had a brain lapse or something, he was pinning me to the ground with a pie in his hand. Looking dangerous and beautiful and sly and smug. As always.

This was not good.

I had a feeling he planned this all along.

But strangely enough, I didn't mind the planning so much as the grinning. The grinning was dangerous.

My heart raced because _now_ my body realized exactly how close together we were and how he was straddling my waist with his legs, not putting all of his weight on me. I blinked up at him, shocked, before I narrowed my eyes.

"You know better than to hit a girl," I reasoned with an innocent smile. Edward just laughed his low throaty laugh.

"I grew up in the slums of Chicago, sweetheart. My mama never taught me those things."

Before I could register that I had actually just learned something about him that I didn't know, the pie came to my face and all thoughts were lost. I squealed and wiped the pie from my face, pushing on Edward so quickly that he lost his balance and we tumbled backwards (well, I went forwards when he went backwards), a tangled mess of pie and limbs and laughing.

We stumbled to our feet and chucked as many pies were left at each other, but the supply of pies was trickling down, and before we knew it, the horn was blown again. I slipped, know a complete knot of laughing and ecstasy, and stumbled into Edward's arms. We were still laughing as the coordinator finished up the pie fight and everyone cheered.

Me in his pie-covered arms, him dumping his hunting hat on my head, and the both of us grinning at each other.

Then I knew we had shared a moment here.

Whether for our friendship or for something more, we shared a moment.

And suddenly, we were closer.

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We stood by the car in our pie-covered mess, reliving the pie fight with gut-regurgitating, laugh out loud stories. The euphoria was still there in our laughter, and I thought about how I was planning on keeping it here. How to capture the euphoria. Maybe with a glass jar?

"Wait, wait," Edward said as he grabbed the Polaroid, "We need an 'after' picture!"

He pulled over some random guy with a toga and handed him the camera. Then we stood as we did in the 'before' picture, but possibly grinning even wider this time. Edward thanked the man and smiled somewhat softly at the moment captured in the developing picture.

"Bella that shirt is _soaked through_ with pie," Alice laughed.

"At least I had the decency to wear black," I said, pointing at Alice's quite see-through shirt. She laughed, not even bothering to cross her arms over her chest.

"Silly Bella, I brought a change of clothes," Alice said, "But you did too, right?"

"Of course," I replied, popping open the trunk of the truck. Alice rummaged through the bags there, finding hers with triumph as my gut dropped.

"Oh _great_," I sighed, "That's perfect."

"What?" Alice asked, "You can't find your bag?"

"I swear I put it in here this morning!" I groaned. I would have to drive my truck in my gooey pie-covered self.

"What's wrong?" Jasper asked.

"Bella forgot her change of clothes," Alice explained as she searched through the bags for mine.

"Well, do you have extra, Alice?" Jasper asked.

"I guess, but Bella's almost a head taller than me," Alice said with a sigh. Edward walked over from the front of the car, slamming the passenger door closed and looking at us quizzically.

"I forgot my change of clothes," I explained. He raised his eyebrows.

"Didn't you put it in the trunk this morning?"

"I thought so," I sighed, muttering to myself about how stupid I was.

"I have some you can wear," Edward said with a shrug, "I knew someone might forget."

"Really? You have extra? Well, that's perfect then!" Alice said, "Good thinking, Watson. Jasper and I are going to go change behind some trees."

Alice grabbed Jasper, skipping off. I looked over at Edward, who was humming to himself as he searched through the trunk.

"Well, I don't have extra pants," he said and I wanted to die right then and there, "But I do have a shirt that will definitely be big enough on you to cover you pretty decently."

He emerged from the trunk, handing me a crumpled, dark green shirt. I sighed and smiled thankfully at him.

"You don't, by chance, have an extra bra in there?"

"I have tape?" he teased. I huffed.

"I wouldn't _need_ it if two people hadn't shoved pie down my shirts on _both sides_," I said, stomping off and opening the door to my truck as he laughed.

"No peeking," I warned, pointing a finger at him.

"Bella," he said, rolling his eyes, "How indecent do you think I-"

"Pinky promise."

I stuck out my pinky. He grinned wryly, but did the same, and we hooked pinkies. Satisfied, I climbed in the truck and slammed the door. I ducked down behind the front seats, and though it was rather cramped back here, I was able to pull off my jeans and t-shirt. I pulled on Edward's t-shirt, which smelt like Edward, a tinge of sunscreen, and a bit like cinnamon. It went down about four inches above my knee, which wasn't too bad. About the length of the skirts Alice wore, maybe even longer.

But I wasn't wearing pants.

And that was embarrassing.

I climbed out of the truck, wearing the flip flops Alice left here and trying not to flash any departing pie-fighters that were still hanging around. I tossed my clothes in one of the plastic bags we had brought and wiped down my hair and face with one of the towels Alice brought.

I walked back to the trunk where Edward, true to his word, had his back towards me and his face to the sky.

"I'm clothed," I said with a sigh as I opened the trunk to put the plastic bag back here. I resisted the urge to add, "barely."

Edward turned around, looking startled all of a sudden. The smile wiped away as he looked at me, a strange expression I'd never really seen on him crossing his face. Maybe because he's never seen so much of my legs. Understandable, I guess, but I still felt awkward as I reached up to close the trunk.

"Thanks for the shirt," I said, "You can go change now if you want. We're going to have to hose down my truck when we get back. There are pie bits everywhere."

Edward was still staring. I looked down. The shirt was fine, I thought, but maybe something was amiss?

"What?" I asked Edward. He shook himself out of it and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, err, I'll go change."

Weird. That boy and his mood swings.

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Edward

"Bella, you should wear dresses like that more often!" Alice said as we climbed out of the truck. We were back now, at Bella's house. I still didn't get the feeling it was _my_ house yet, but occasionally I called it 'home'. It was, for now, I guess.

Alice had parked her Porsche here when we left to go pick up Jasper in Bella's truck, so she skipped over to it with her and Jasper's stuff.

"Alice, for the millionth time," Bella sighed, "My legs are pasty looking."

"Are you kidding me?! You have great legs! And great skin! What the hell is wrong with your eyes?" Alice said, dropping one of the bags she was holding on Jasper's foot so she could put her hands on her hips.

Jasper cursed under his breath, glaring at Alice who was gaping at Bella, and limped off towards the trunk of the Porsche.

"Alice, we are not discussing my wardrobe right now," Bella said, "_Edward_ is your Barbie."

Alice grinned slowly.

"For now," she said, the innocent and creepy fire in her eyes. I'm not sure if she's ever unleashed it on Bella, but Bella was unaffected, shaking her head and mumbling to herself.

I was still gaping, as I had been when she first emerged in my shirt. She had her hair pulled up into a messy bun, Alice's flip flops on her feet, and my shirt reaching her mid-thigh. I had a near heart attack, to say the least. Just the way her innocent smile and warm vibe looked in my shirt….ugh.

I can't believe I needed a cold shower.

That's just ridiculous.

But then, looking at Bella's effortless way of turning me on, I realized maybe it wasn't so ridiculous.

She looked warm and inviting. I made the mental mistake of calling her mine upon seeing my shirt on her. Then I didn't _want_ it to be a mistake, and then I pushed the ideas out of my head.

"We better get going," Alice said, "Lot's of catching up to do, you see."

"I thought you had your share of that behind the trees," I called out as they climbed into Alice's Porsche. As they shut the doors and pulled out of the driveway, I saw Alice's middle finger sticking out from the open driver's window.

Classy.

"Ugh," Bella groaned, "I'm _wiped out_. Can we unpack the trunk later?"

She walked into the house, well more like _slumped_, and I followed. I shut the door behind me as she collapsed on the couch with a contented sigh. I walked over to her, moving her feet so I could sit down, and then dropping her feet into my lap. She sighed again and snuggled into the couch, looking quite comfortable.

"Your shirt smells really good," she mumbled with her eyes closed.

"Thank you?"

She laughed and opened her eyes, turning her head so she could look at me.

"Did you have fun today?" she asked.

"Yes, I did. Loads of. More than I ever thought possible in Forks."

"Yeah, we Forks folk do the strangest of things. We've been known to shock and surprise."

"Did _you_ have fun?"

"Too much," she said, yawning on cue. I laughed.

"We should take a nap," she mumbled, her head turning and her eyes closing again.

Together?

"You have a head start, you know," I replied.

She didn't respond except with a small grumble. Her breathing was getting slower and slower. I smiled, resting my head against the wall behind the couch. That's when I noticed a brown box sitting on the kitchen counter. Slowly, as to not wake Bella, I removed her legs from my lap and stood up. She didn't stir and I made my way to the kitchen.

There was a post-it note underneath the box.

_Edward-_

_This package came for you today. I called Carlisle, and he said you can open it. Don't worry, I don't need to check the contents or anything like that. We trust you and respect your privacy._

_-Charlie_

I frowned, getting a knife from one of the drawers and opening the tape on the box.

Once I opened it, I wished I never had.

First, there was that old, familiar glossy brochure with the scripted green lettering and 'About Our Organization' and other details that made my heart lurch. Then there was a letter in a white envelope, but I knew what it was. I'd seen Elizabeth reading them over and over with that smile on her face. The only smile I'd see on her back then was when she read those letters.

Then there was the tiny, clear, palm-shaped box filled with thin metal sewing needles. My breathing shook when I saw the last thing.

The tiny stuffed bear. Pink, like the way it was under the Chicago sun as Elizabeth sat there toiling over how to get his ear _just right_.

My hands were shaking. How did they find me?

I looked at the return address on the white envelope: Renee Dwyer.

_Come on, Edward. You knew it was a matter of time before they did._

I wanted to know what they knew. How long it took them to realize that Elizabeth Masen was dead. How long after that did it take them to realize she had a son. I wanted to know how they got the tiny pink bear.

My hands were shaking hard as I shut the box. I looked over at Bella, who was still napping. I tried to breathe, but I choked on the air.

Neverending Needle Society. It said so right there in the embellished green letters on the glossy paper. The image of those words would be forever burned in my mind. The society that my mother breathed and smothered herself in during the last year of her life.

I took another breath, this time letting it out shakily. I had to calm down before I got myself worked up again. My hand twitched towards my pocket reflexively, where my lighter once was, and I cursed myself for not being able to get rid of that habit.

I tilted my head up to the ceiling and squeezed my eyes shut. I clenched my fists. I clenched my teeth. I didn't breathe.

Why won't you leave me alone?

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**As always, I apologize for the wait. I always delete my stuff, you see, because I'm a fidgety and anxious woman who gets frustrated with words that don't come out right. **

**The plot's a'movin and a'shakin. Get excited. So I gave some pretttyyy big clues as to what's going on. And yes, the whole 'Caesar' part of the title will be explained too. The 'Youth' part is pretty self explanatory. But look! Neverending Needles! (points and jumps excitedly).**

**If you don't remember what the pink bear is, here's a hint: look at the prologue in Chapter 1**

**Here's another clue: Neverending Needle Society **_**does**_** involve both Bella and Edward in some way.**

**LEAVE ME A REVIEW WITH YOUR THEORIES! Even if you think it's wrong, I still love hearing them. I love hearing your thoughts in general. **


	9. To Hide and To Burn

**.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight = not mine. **

**A/N: Dark-ish chapter. More angsty. **

**WORTH NOTICING – YOU HAVE TO READ THE FLASHBACKS IF YOU WANT ANSWERS TO YOUR QUESTIONS. I do some more revealing/explaining in the flashbacks. **

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_Flashback (California)_

_James stood with his back against the door of his signature black, beat up car. He flicked his cigarette once before putting it back between his lips and hollowing his cheeks. He grinned sideways at me as the puff of smoke came out between his lips and mingled with the flame on the cigarette. The flame I was staring at. _

_I sat with my back against the wheel of his car, sighing as the smoke rose and disappeared into the night. James flicked his cigarette again. I continued wrapping the cuts on my hand with the strip of fabric I ripped off my shirt. I sniffed, my nose still numb from the scuffle. _

"_What are your feelings on Turkey?" he asked suddenly, looking up at the sky. I wiped my bloody brow with the back of my sleeve and blinked up to the sky where he was watching. _

"_The animal or the country?" I replied gruffly. _

"_Country."_

"_I never thought about Turkey."_

"_Well, I'm asking you to think about it now you stubborn bastard."_

"_Why the hell would I think about Turkey?"_

"_Do you wanna go there someday?" _

"_Not particularly."_

"_Okay, damnit, that's all I needed to know! God. If you didn't have frickin' fists of fury, I'd drop your weepy ass, d'you know that?"_

_I scoffed with a smile, rubbing my split knuckle and hiding my cringe when it stung. I squinted up through the hair that was flopping over my face._

"_Why do I feel like I'm just a tool in this big scheme of yours?"_

"_Because you are," James said simply, finishing his cigarette, dropping it on the sidewalk, and rubbing it in with his toe, "Now, if you're finished kissing your boo boos, we gotta scram before they figure out we're here."_

"_What? Why? You think they called the cops?"_

_James didn't answer except with a sigh, walking around the front of the car to get to the driver's side as he looked up at the sky again. I huffed, wiping my brow again, coughing, and scrambling to my feet before James ditched me again. Patience wasn't one of his strong traits. _

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I blinked at the map in the little, metal, turn-able display of vacation spots. Turkey. I looked over my shoulder before turning back to the little brochure. I wouldn't admit to why I was recently transfixed with looking at brochures, though I pretty much could guess it had to do with the box I received yesterday that I hid under my bed.

Brochures. God, I forgot how much I hated them.

I had a headache. In fact, I've had a constant headache since yesterday. The pills looked mighty tempting, but I was afraid I'd down the whole bottle.

Along with that, the headache was paired with constant flashbacks of Chicago summers and Elizabeth's smile. I didn't know why I was thinking about James. He didn't have anything to do with the Neverending Needle Society. Maybe I was just finally going crazy?

Alice didn't work the Sunday morning shift. She went to Church with her father, as did Bella. Jasper, however, was keeping me company by hanging around here. He didn't have anything better to do without Alice, anyway. Still, he was a good source of testosterone in my world full of estrogen.

Maybe the overdose of womanly friendship was the reason I was so emotional and flashback-y lately.

I rubbed my brow and then caught the motion, stopping it before shoving my hands in my pockets.

It was quiet, because it was Sunday morning and this was a pious town. And all the little children who stick lollipops on my clothes go with their parents to church on Sunday morning. Why else do you think I took this shift?

"What the hell is this?"

I turned around to see Jasper staring at some kitchen appliance. It looked like an electric mixer, the kind that was two mixing spoons that electrically turn themselves. Being able to identify kitchen appliances, I realized that I needed to go do something manly. Maybe go punch a wall. Or blow up a car. You know, the things I'm good at and stuff.

"It's a dildo," I deadpanned with a nod, turning away from the display of vacation spots. I noticed Sheryl, a cranky middle-aged woman, with the striped pants, bad nose job, and fake looking blonde hair glaring at me from the check-out counters. I guess she was pissed that _she _had to handle the one and only customer here today. She's lazy. Almost as much as I am.

It's okay, though, because I know she has a crush on Jasper. So all will be forgiven if I just get Jasper to flash that toothy grin at ol' Sheryl.

"Really?" Jasper gaped, scrunching up his face and looking at the metal monstrosity, "Damn. It looks like it would hurt like a _bitch_ if you stuck it up your vagina."

"Some girls like it rough," I said with a shrug, walking over to him. He had scuba goggles on his forehead and a bright red fanny pack clipped onto his belt.

"Are you buying those?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Why? Should I get Alice the dildo instead?"

"Yes," I replied immediately. He considered this and I had to turn away so he wouldn't see me grinning.

"Hey, man," Jasper said as he inspected the 'dildo', "No guys hit on her at school, right? No one I need to worry about…?"

"Guys?" I repeated, "No. Most of the guys are afraid of Alice…."

"Good," Jasper laughed, "And I know I don't need to worry about _you_, Romeo."

"Yeah, I'd never hit on Alice. She'd slap me. Or stick something sharp and painful up my nose."

"Probably. But that's not why I'm not worried."

I raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to elaborate.

"Oh, come on," Jasper laughed, "You honestly think no one noticed your little _thing_ for a charming Miss Bella Swan?"

"What?" I sputtered, "Bella?"

"W-What?" Jasper mimicked with an over-exaggerated deer in the headlights expression, "Yes. Dude. Obvious. Ya douche."

"I don't-"

"Save it for the mirror. You really need to help me decide. Dildo or scuba goggles?"

"Dildo or scuba goggles? Geez, what a tough decision," I heard a voice from behind me say with a laugh. I turned to see Bella walking over to us, hopping as she pulled off one of her 'respectable' church shoes. She had claimed they were getting too small and had scoffed when I had told her it was a sign from God.

She was wearing a white sweater and a pink dress that went below her knees, looking like the daughter of the President. Looking _nothing_ like the girl covered in pie yesterday. Nothing like the girl wearing my shirt.

This was good girl Bella.

Hello, good girl Bella. Fancy seeing you here. Believe it or not, I'm seeing split personalities in you, though bad girl Bella isn't quite developed yet….but don't worry, she's getting there.

Seeing Bella dressed like this gnawed at me and made my headache pulse. It made me feel awful. Like I was corrupting something beautifully pure.

Of course, I stopped thinking that when she smiled and laughed at the 'dildo' Jasper was holding in his right hand, the scuba goggles in his left.

"That's not a dildo," Bella laughed. I noticed progress. A few days ago she would've blushed if she said that dirty, dirty word….

I looked at her church clothes again and felt my headache throb. Okay, let's not call it progress. Let's call it change.

Jasper shot me a dirty look as he said, "Then what the fuck is it?"

"I don't know, but I use it to mix pancake batter," Bella said, shrugging and glancing curiously between Jasper and me.

"In my defense, the thing _could _be used as a dildo," I said as Jasper glared and put the kitchen-whatever-the-fuck-it-was-appliance down where he found it and stormed off, saying he'll buy her some "goddamn broccoli instead".

"So, when'd you get here?" I asked, looking her up and down, "And are those panty hose?"

"I just got here. I need to pick up some milk. And yes, I am wearing panty hose."

"Classy."

"Shut up, you don't have the right to make fun when you're in that vest."

"I'll have you know that in some universes, this vest might be considered high fashion."

"Not in this one."

"Mmmmm," I said, pretending to ponder that, "Not in this one, no."

She rolled her eyes.

"Hey, my shift's almost over. Wanna give me a ride back so we can go chill and stuff our faces?"

"No hookah bar this time," she said, pointing her finger at me and joking about the time I tried to take her to this hookah bar I found downtown. Who knew Forks had a hookah bar? I mean, _come on_.

"But sure," she continued, "That sounds good."

"Awesome," I said, smiling. She blushed, for some reason, and then I heard the shrill battle cry of Sheryl.

"Boy," she called out, "You better get your scrawny ass over here before I beat you with the damn broom."

"Sheryl, you say the sweetest things," I called back, winking and grinning.

"I'm warning ya, kid," she said, "If I don't get my break in ten minutes…"

"Oh no," I fake-gasped, "Not the _mop_."

I pretended to hide and cower behind my arms, just because I'm an asshole. When I looked up, I had to bite back a laugh at Sheryl's twisted face. I knew she loved me. She just didn't know it yet.

"Oopsie," I said to Bella, "Got her purple. Not good. I don't know CPR. I'll meet you outside?"

"Sure," Bella said, the both of us trying not to laugh because Sheryl was going to stab us with brooms if we did.

I skid over to Sheryl, sliding my shoes on the glossy floor the last few steps so I stood right in front of Sheryl. I knew she hated that, but hey, she was scowling anyway.

"I swear to God, _you_ are the reason for my high blood pressure," Sheryl said, pointing a stubby finger at me and narrowing those beady eyes, "My doctor said to stay away from punks like you."

"Oh, Sheryl," I laughed, "You don't know _how_ many people have told me that very same thing."

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Bella and I stood out in the rain, my Hannah Montana umbrella over the both of us. Bella was chewing on a hamburger, looking pensive as we window shopped. She was staring at some dark blue dress in the display of the clothing store we'd been standing outside of. She almost seemed amused, taking another bite from the hamburger in her hand. I had finished mine a minute ago, but was gentlemanly enough to grab Bella's burger from her hands.

"Hey!" she said, mouth full, as I took a bite of her burger.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, handing her back her burger. She snatched it from me.

"You steal my burger and expect me to share my thoughts?"

I dug into my pocket for a penny. Then I showed it to her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked cheekily, grinning sideways. Bella scoffed, shoving me with her hand.

"It's just funny," Bella said, her lips fighting a smile.

"What is?"

"I'm standing out here eating a burger, staring at a gorgeous blue gown that I'd never be able to fit into, let alone pull off," Bella continued, her lips forming into a sort of sick smile, "And I don't know…it's just kind of ironic, you know?"

I cringed, though I'm not sure why. She looked up sadly at me, almost apologetic. Like she didn't mean to tell me that.

I stared at her until she blushed.

"I don't understand women," I said honestly, taking her burger again, "Do you all really think we men find starvation attractive or sexy at all?"

"Not sexy…but fashionable. Trendy," Bella said softly, not meeting my gaze. I stopped chewing.

"Look," Bella huffed, "Guys go for skinny girls because they look good by their sides. A fashionable, hip, 'beautiful' conquest. I mean, they obviously don't do it with _that_ exact concept in mind, but…well, maybe they do it subconsciously. Think of it this way, if men _really_ didn't find skinny girls attractive, then why are all the skinny girls the ones with the men?"

I kept staring.

"You must have been spending a lot of time with shallow guys to come up with that conclusion," I said quietly after a moment. Could this be a clue to breaking Bella?

"Too many," she sighed, laughing humorlessly, "Anyway, it doesn't matter. You ask for my thoughts, you get them."

"If you think," I said sternly, "For one second, that you are anything less than this beautiful, sweet, warm, loving, kind girl, then I'm sorry, but I'm just going to have to punch you in the face."

Smooth, Edward. Real romantic. Classy, even.

I half expected her to bolt. But she didn't.

Bella looked up at me with wide, doe-like eyes despite the fact I had just violently threatened her. Like I just told her the secret to happiness. But she still seemed disbelieving. Then she looked away.

"Hey, I'm not fishing for compliments," she said with a slight laugh, "You don't need to sugar coat anything for me. I'm not throwing a pity party. Honest. I'm just…"

What? Is she kidding me with this? Does this girl even _look_ in the mirror?

"Sugar coat?" I scoffed, "You're telling the teenage delinquent to stop _sugar coating_?"

"No, I'm telling the teenage delinquent to stop lying."

I set my jaw and Bella blinked, looking like she wanted to slap her hand over her mouth.

"Wait, no I didn't mean-"

"Oh. So, you think I'm lying?" I asked, dropping my voice to a deadly level. I looked at Bella out of the corner of my eye

"Let's stop talking about this," Bella said, looking away.

"I'm not lying."

She didn't answer. She took a bite of her burger, looking at blue gown in the window. We were quiet, letting the rain fall around us. What would it take to break this girl down?

"Edward," she said at last, "Who…who exactly are you?"

I know what type of answer she was searching for. I kicked at a stone by my foot. I had a feeling telling her the horrendous things I've done would _not_ help to break her down. In fact, it would push her away.

"Bella," I sighed, "If I told you…"

She looked cautiously at me. I kept my eyes forward, my jaw locked. How the hell did we get on this topic? And when the hell can we leave it?

"…You'd run," I said, looking at her to show I wasn't kidding around, "Trust me."

Bella stared at me for a while longer, but my eyes were on my shoes. Ashamed. Only standing in Bella's presence could make me feel so god-awful for the things I've done.

"Will you tell me someday?" she asked. I took her burger wordlessly, taking a bite and looking up at Hannah Montana's creepy face peering through the umbrella.

"Someday."

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_Flashback (Chicago)_

_I peeked through the door, watching my mother sew a little pink bear. She was almost finished, now, but she didn't look as happy as I thought she'd look. She sewed in such a weird way. By hand. With a thin metal needle. I asked her about using the sewing machine, thinking it would be easier, but she told me that's not what she and the 'other girls' do in the 'organization'. _

_I was confused. But she didn't explain. She didn't say much at all. _

_She looked up and saw me, her eyes tired looking. I ducked away, afraid I would get in trouble. _

"_Edward," she called out in a weak voice. I peeked my head through her room again. She was lying on the bed, her smile as weak as her voice. She patted the bed, the spot beside her. I grinned my toothy, childish smile and clambered onto the bed. _

_I snuggled next to her and she petted my hair silently, looking at me sideways. She pushed some hair from my face and ran her finger over one of my eyebrows._

"_Did you eat dinner?" she asked. I'd been making my own dinner lately, using the microwave we recently got after my father died in the house fire set by the stove. I nodded at my mother. She grinned softly, almost sadly._

"_You didn't need me, huh?" she said, her voice weak again and her eyes swimming with a sadness I'd never seen before. I frowned._

"_I need you, Mommy," I said, snuggling closer to her as she chuckled softly._

"_I know, baby," she sighed, "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."_

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I looked at the bear in my hand as I recalled the memory. The box was out, because I walked into my room and thought I had only dreamed of it. But I hadn't. No, the nightmare was true. And it was staring at me with tiny blue buttons for eyes.

Elizabeth. Mom. Mommy. Mother.

They were all the same names for the maker of this bear. The haunter of the guilt-nightmares James wasn't successful in making disappear. The only thing left of my mother when the word 'adoption' was stamped over my forehead. The thing, I thought, had died along with her.

And maybe I had some explaining to do. To myself. To Bella. To my parents. To everyone who would listen.

I was eight when I was adopted. Ten when I realized how fucked everything was. Thirteen when I met James. Fifteen when everything was better. Seventeen when everything went up in flames.

James tried to help. That's all he did. That's all anyone did. Seeing the bear again, it brought back the guilt I tried to push away. The guilt James tried to push away. I had been successful with keeping it far, far away and I still was. I mean hey, I wasn't trying to commit suicide or spending hours upon hours in fetal position.

I didn't consider myself one of those 'scarred' children who need the therapy and the help and who throw little 'pity parties', as Bella called them, for themselves whenever the littlest thing went wrong. And I wasn't scarred. Not emotionally.

That kind of scarred is for the weak. And I am _not_ weak.

But I wasn't thick enough to not notice the bricks falling with every second I looked at the ratty bear my mother made in that stuffy apartment we lived in.

Angry, I shoved the bear back in the box. I slammed it under the bed and fisted both hands in my hair.

I had to stop this. I was thinking too much again. Taking things too heavily. Being all emotional. Bringing back the guilt.

_The things you're attached to make you weaker_, I heard James' voice shout in my head. My head throbbed painfully and I rubbed my brow again because I couldn't help it.

Stop. Get a grip, Edward, and quit being such a baby.

I took a shaky breath in, my hands twitching towards my lighter. A habit, maybe, that ran a little deeper than just disgusting cigarettes and gritty second hand smoke.

…_.Flashback_

"_Listen to me," James spat in my face, holding me up by my collar as I whimpered like a two year old, "You can't _do_ this to yourself, man. You need some help."_

"_I-I-I," I muttered, my face bleeding. I always ended up beat up when I tried to talk to James. It was a trend I noticed from the start. _

_James slapped me across the face. It stung. I breathed deeply in and out through my nose, biting back the sobs of pain. _

"_What were you trying to do with this?" James said, snatching my lighter off the floor and holding it in front of my face, "Hm? Answer me."_

"_I-I-I," I mumbled as best I could. These were the dark days. A few years with my adoptive parents Carlisle and Esme, now a weak, gawky 8__th__ grader. A few years of therapy. A few years of me growing up with a guilt that would soon eat me alive if I didn't stop. _

_I knew that. But it hurt to think. Back then, it hurt to do anything. _

_And James was out to change that. James was the 11__th__ grader. The one with the answers. _

"_Trying to light a fire?" James asked with raised eyebrows. He gazed at me for a second. Then he dropped my collar and I landed on the floor, my lighter clanging on the floor next to my head. I winced, closing my eyes. _

"_What the _hell_ would you have done if I hadn't come around?" James snapped, "God, kid, you're a fucking mess."_

_I let out shaky breaths, keeping the sobs in and feeling the pain in my face. I closed my eyes again, dreaming of Chicago but instead feeling the sticky, hard floor of California pavement against my back._

"_Why?" I heard him ask, "Because your father died in a house fire?"_

_I didn't answer._

"_Because your mother committed suicide not long after?"_

_I didn't answer still._

"_Or are you like the rest of us?" James asked, his voice dropping. Almost regretfully. _

"_Like us. The ones just plain _obsessed,"_ James said, his voice dropping, "With destruction. Now that destruction has swallowed our whole lives."_

_I didn't answer, my eyes wide with curiosity at this brave boy with the scars on his face and the steel-toed boots. The one that smelled like cigarettes and already had grey hair mixing with his blonde hair. _

"_I need," I began, my voice thick, "I need help."_

"_Damn straight," James said, bending down to pick up my lighter, "So here's what we're going to do."_

_He shoved my lighter in my face again, his face slowly twisting into a smile…_

I broke away from my thoughts, shaking my head and looking at the closed drawer where I knew my lighter was. There was something eating inside me that I knew I needed to clear before it blew up in the most unfortunate of ways. Something I didn't know how to solve on my own.

So I did the only thing I knew how to do.

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Bella

I hummed to myself, carrying my laundry basket up the stairs. Jasper and Alice were just over, and the four of us spent a lazy Sunday evening together. Lounging on the couch, eating ice cream from the cartons, and watching the sun set in the grey sky, making the air alive with purple and orange.

The TV had glimmered the whole time, but we were mostly talking. Edward had seemed distracted tonight. I noticed something was a bit off. I thought maybe it was because we had school tomorrow. He kept looking off in the distance, laughing a little less, and giving me long, blank looks. I strangled with whether or not to ask him what was wrong.

Anyway, Jasper and Alice left to go on a dinner date. Edward and I cleaned up a bit, but then Edward went upstairs to lock himself in his room. I let him go, trudging downstairs to do laundry.

Now that I was finished, I was walking back upstairs. I passed by Edward's room, the door shut. I listened for noises, but there were none. I went into my room, dumping my laundry on my bed. Maybe I could study for that test I had on Thursday…

I huffed. This was ridiculous. All I could think about was talking to Edward.

I opened the door to my room slowly. Edward's door was still closed. I made the resolve to talk to him and see what was up. I really shouldn't have been so nosy. Really, I shouldn't have.

But then there was a loud crash in his room and I jumped, acting on instinct and running to his door. I yanked it open. Edward was standing by his window wearing only pajama bottoms, but he turned around with a jump. The window was open, a breeze fluttering by. The moonlight seemed to be swallowing Edward, glimmering around his bare shoulders in an eerie sort of halo.

"Bella," he said, "Fuck, you scared me."

"I heard a crash…" I said, looking around at his room. Papers with scrawled words on it were fluttered around, post-it notes on his wall that hadn't been there the last time I went into his room. And there was a box on his bed. Edward walked over and slammed it shut once he saw me looking at it.

"A crash?" he asked. Now I was staring at his bare chest, the gold cross glimmering there, tempting me in a twisted way. No one should look that gorgeous shirtless. No one.

Bella! You're distracted!

"Yeah," I said, narrowing my eyes at the box he had his hands over, "Are you okay?"

"What?" he asked, "Yeah. I'm fine. Are _you_ okay?"

We stared at each other for a moment, and he looked scary calm. A practiced calm. He smiled slowly.

"What were you expecting to find?" he asked, veiling his curiosity.

"I don't know," I sighed in exasperation, "You howling in pain and gripping your foot because you stubbed it against the dresser?"

An answer, perhaps?

He raised his eyebrows as if he knew I was lying. We stared a while longer.

"Maybe something fell down outside," he offered with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, "It is raining, after all."

"Maybe."

Yeah. It is raining. So why do you have your window open?

And that's when I saw it. The lighter on the floor. The metal glimmered like the metal on the cross around Edward's neck. Like the glimmer around Edward. An eerie halo.

Suddenly, Edward was standing in front of me. I took a step back, reflexively, and felt my eyes staring closer now at his bare chest.

_Fuck_.

What? Did I just hear that correctly? Bella Swan cursing?

Normally, I found it pointless. There were better words. But right now? There weren't. No other word could possibly explain both how gorgeous his chest was and how totally _screwed_ I was. That was it, wasn't it?

I'd fallen for this mysterious boy. I was stuck. And I could feel two yearnings bubbling fiercely inside of me. One to figure out what was going on. Another to grab him and kiss him. Hard.

As much as I wanted to close my eyes and will the feelings away, I knew I couldn't. It was true. I was stuck. I couldn't _not_ care anymore. I was hitched to this boy, whether it would have a good outcome or not. And these days, before getting emotionally attached, I'd plan it out. Make sure I'd come out alive.

But with Edward, things were uncertain. Grey areas. And somehow, I knew at that moment I was latched on. No matter what. Maybe not a strong bond now, but it was big enough to see. To feel. God, was that scary.

What has gotten into me?

I looked up at Edward's tight-lipped expression. His hard eyes scrutinizing mine with mild frustration. Could he feel it too? Would this break us or build us? But the biggest question of the night was still staring me in the face. In front of all my petty internal problems.

What on earth was going _on_?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**You okay? Still with me? Don't freak out. **

**Lighter obsession = not suicide. This is not a suicide story. Don't interpret his obsession with lighter as obsession with burning himself. Sure, Edward's emo and angsty, but he won't be burning himself alive. I just needed to make that clear. I will explain the burning more later, as the story goes on. **

**You did, however, learn more about Edward in this chapter. Hm…**

**Well, that's all I'm going to say. This wasn't one of my happiest chapters, but rather an informative one.**

**Tell me watcha think? Think Edward's lying to himself about not being a 'scarred' child? His past **_**is**_** pretty terrible, afterall….**


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